Ano Hito no Jijō
by Saddletank
Summary: Life at Hokuei High School seen through the eyes of an additional character. Note this is not an SI. This is a new student, and the interaction with Tsuda Masami’s existing characters will reveal more about them and the new person as we go.
1. The Place I Love The Most

Kareshi Kanojo no Jijō told from the perspective of another student. A student struggling with average academic ability in a school of over-achievers. A student struggling with a blossoming and ambiguous sexuality. A student struggling with relationships and love. A student struggling with a darkness in their family's past. These are

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

Legal bit: I do not own Kare Karo (His and Her Circumstances, or Kareshi Kanojo no Jijō). The wonderfully talented Tsuda Masami and Gainax do. The characters and places in this story belong to them, I'm just borrowing them for a while, and not making any money from them. I'll give them back soon and I promise nothing will be broken, grubby or scuffed.

**Chapter One – The Place I Love The Most**

_This is the story of a girl  
Who cried a river and drowned the whole world.  
And while she looks so sad in photographs,  
I absolutely love her, when she smiles._

- Nine Days, Absolutely (Story of a Girl)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  


It is wonderful up here.

The sky is blue, the lovely white clouds go on for ever.

I love clouds. They are like dreams. You can see them, you can imagine them. You can never quite reach them. They hang there, beautiful and full of promise. I see them and think of pillows. Or another person's body. Just out of reach.

I stand here, my arms taut holding the railing, gripping fists, white knuckles. I'm like a spring ready to uncoil and go. But not yet. I can't leave yet. You haven't heard my story have you?

Up here the view is marvellous. It goes on and on across the city. The sounds, the smells, the happy buzz. So many people being happy. I think sometimes by being here their happiness will rub off on me. Happiness smearing onto me. Like my brother once did.

_Why did that memory come up? _

My mood is broken.

My brother.

What he did I carry with me all the time.

But up here, with the warm sun on my skin, the breeze on my face, and fresh air in my lungs I can almost be alive.

Almost.

Because today is special, today I am happy. She made me happy. Let me tell you about her. While I am up here let me tell you. In this place I love the most.

- - - oOo - - -

_8 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter One, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	2. This Girl, Who Is She?

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Two – This Girl, Who Is She?  **

I had noticed her in class of course. Everyone did. All the freshmen at a new school look around carefully and size up the opposition. It's only natural. Some people come in groups, friends from middle school and they may attract new people into their circle of easy familiarity, these groups lounge around leaning on desks, on lockers, by the drinks machines, relaxed and chatting.

Do I envy the groups?

Sometimes…

…if I'm honest.

I am not in them.

I am not a part of them.

I am a loner.

And loners look around to see who is a possible threat, a possible bully, who to avoid. Not who to befriend.

That is who loners see.

But she was different.

I noticed her at once. Not because of her striking orange-red hair, nor even her beautiful slanting red-hazel eyes, not even how slim she was, how boyish.

No.

I noticed her because she was neither a loner nor an anonymous member of a clique.

She was different.

She was Miyazawa Yukino.

The day I first saw her I was puzzled. Because she didn't fit the pattern. She spoke to a number of people and was clearly known by them, from her previous school I assumed. She wouldn't hang out with one group, large or small, but she seemed to drift between groups, to belong to them all.

And to none of them.

And yet she was not a loner either.

I could tell she knew what being a loner was though. I could smell myself on her, the smell of a person who seems to fit in but doesn't. She was doing a very good job of fitting in. I've become good at it myself, so I know the signs. But this girl was different. Better at it. Much better. She was a grand master at appearing to fit in while not fitting in.

How can a loner belong to all the groups?

I thought about this and didn't understand.

I didn't understand anything about Miyazawa then.

Only later did I start to understand her.

But first, came the confusion. And I still haven't mentioned _her_.

- - - oOo - - -

_8 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Two, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	3. Strangeness At The Enrolment Ceremony

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Three – Strangeness At The Enrolment Ceremony **

We sat in rows in the hall. At the front the tutors – the sensei. And the head of school. Kouchou-sensei. A man to be feared and respected. And we, the Hokuei High School freshman class of 1995 sat, squeaky clean and nervous. Three hundred bundles of nerves, smelling of soap and teenage pheromones.

I was in class 1-A.

There were seven classes, each of over forty students.

We listened to the speeches, the formal welcome and the haranguing to do well. We were The Chosen, we were told. Hokuei is one of the finest non-private schools in Tokyo, we were told. We should be honoured to be here, we were told. Tokyo is watching us, we were told. Do well, we were told. The honour of your parents watches you, we were told.

_No it doesn't_, he was told. By me. _Because they're dead_.

_And fat chance anyway_, he was told. By me. Not with the useless lump of grey sludge in my skull.

I'm no academic, I must have arrived here through sheer fluke. I scraped a place, hauled myself in by my fingernails, slithering over the door step. I don't deserve to be here.

I'm average.

I'm below average.

The head tutor of freshman year stood and began to make announcements of a more technical nature, many rules and regulations, all the do's and don'ts.

I let his voice slide easily over my head.

Ignoring him. Ignoring the techy stuff.

Like I've done all my school life.

Instead I looked around.

Plain girls, cute boys. Plain boys, fat girls. Cute girls, hot boys. Hot girls, fat boys.

I let my eyes and imagination wander. I looked at the backs of heads and wondered what the faces on the other side were like. I looked behind me at faces and wondered what the insides of their heads were like.

Then I saw her.

She wasn't far away, a row ahead of me and four to my left. Out of three hundred heads I could already spot hers easily. It wasn't the colour of her hair, or her fine profile.

No, it was how she sat. Upright, alert, calm, attentive, at ease, relaxed, assertive. She did all this without moving a muscle. Not one.

How do people do that?

I envied her again. I'd seen her – I mean really _looked_ at her - three times now.

And envied her three times.

Who was she?

Well, I knew her name. Miyazawa.

I tried thinking it slowly.

Mee-ah-zah-wa.

I sounded like I was vomiting.

I thought it fast.

_Myzwa_.

I sounded like a hornet. I zipped by in the warm air above the students heads.

Either way I sounded stupid.

Miyazawa sounded better than either of them. Miyazawa it would be. Done. Easy. All I had to do now was understand her.

Which was she? Plain? Fat? Cute? Hot?

Not fat. And certainly not hot. She was too intelligent and refined looking to be a hottie. And certainly not plain. No sir. Cute then. And rich. She was well dressed. Immaculate. There sat money. You could tell.

Unlike me.

But she didn't look cute either. Not _kawaii _cute, not in that way. Something else entirely. I was still puzzling over this when the girl I was looking at did something I least expected.

She was caught by surprise.

"Representing the incoming freshmen – Arima Soichiro."  
"Hai!"

A thin boy at the desk to her right stood up.

But I hardly saw him. I hardly heard his name.

What I saw was her face. As she turned to look at the standing boy.

Her face changed.

Surprise. Shock. Bewilderment. Astonishment.

As a loner I'm good at reading faces. I need to be. I need to judge people from a distance and keep away if they look like trouble.

I saw these emotions flash across her face. Perhaps if she was a bright student and had expected to be chosen as the freshmen year rep then she might be surprised. And astonished. And all the rest of what I saw there in her wide eyes.

But not angry.

She was angry. She didn't show it for long, it flashed across her face faster than you could say _Myzwa_ and it was gone. But I saw it.

And then I was the one showing surprise. Shock. Bewilderment. Astonishment.

I thought I had got a handle on the kind of girl she was, but it seemed not. And if I, the loner, the one whose great skill (after swimming and track) is judging others before I even hear them speak. If _I_ had misjudged her...

...then so had everyone else.

And they hadn't seen that mask slip.

Just for a second, just for a brief _Myzwa_ moment, she became another person.

An angry, crazy girl.

Which is why I want to get to know you Miss Miyazawa Yukino.

_Why do you show one face and hide the other? _

- - - oOo - - -

_8 - 9 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Three and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	4. Of Test Tubes And Sakura Petals

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Four – Of Test Tubes and Sakura Petals **

Not only am I an average student. Or did I say below average?

I'm forgetful too.

Or maybe that should be _easily distracted_.

Well,_ whatever._

It was second period in the afternoon. History. And I'd gone straight from first period in the chem. lab back to 1-A's homeroom.

Without my bag.

What was I thinking?

You don't want to know.

Well, probably you do, you wouldn't be here listening to my tale if you didn't, hm?

I'll tell you. I'd seen that weird guy from 1-F in the corridor at lunchtime. That hippy with the dyed light brown hair. The one who hardly bothers to wear school uniform. Loose slacks, a tee shirt, jewellery. I swear that if he had little round glasses he'd look like John Lennon. He looked like some kind of musician or beatnik. Very laid back.

Smooth.

_And_ ear piercings. Three of them. Left ear.

Damn, he was having a laugh wasn't he? How does the prestigious Hokuei High put up with that?

Maybe daddy is a school governor or something.

I didn't know his name, but as he passed me he glanced at me.

Well, _down_ at me. He's tall too.

_And_ he caught me glancing at him.

In response to his imagined snigger my face went red. And at the end of chemistry I was still thinking about him.

If he could get into Hokuei High looking like that maybe there was hope for even me.

So, thinking about fake tans and John Lennon, I forgot my bag.

- - - oOo - - -

I had a few minutes, so I ran back.

I stopped in the doorway.

_She_ was in there. Washing up the equipment; the beakers, the test tubes, the pipettes, the refraction bulbs.

She was working at the sink by the window. Class rep duties I guessed.

That red hair. That quiet sense of superiority. That so _bloody_ clever attitude. If she wasn't so nice to everyone, so helpful, she'd piss me right off. The John Lennon wannabe and her. One so laid back he was horizontal and the other so upright you could haul a flag up her spine and salute it. Two opposites.

Hm, make that three.

Can you have three opposites? Is that possible?

The third opposite was with her.

Arima Soichiro.

Here was another person who moved in a different world to me.

Everyone knew Arima. He was the freshman rep, _and_ our other class rep. _And_ so intelligent I felt like a gibbering primate when I was near him. I was simply lower down the evolutionary scale compared to him.

Those diagrams in the geology text books? You know the ones I mean? On the right of the page is a small wriggling wormy thing, then fish, then newts and frogs and so on up through cute furry marsupials that look like chibi-Totoro's to monkeys and apes and then knuckle dragging Neanderthals. And then, on the left of the page an upright man. It's always a man. And he's always naked. And he's beautiful. No beer bellies here. And for some reason he's always walking with his left leg advanced so you can't see anything.

Funny that.

And he's beautiful. A perfect specimen.

That was Arima. Perfect. Homo-Bloody-Perfect-Arima-Sapiens.

I don't often think of boys as beautiful. Plain, cute, fat, hot. Yes. But never beautiful. Except Arima.

Beautiful.

The girls talked of nothing else. It was the eyes. I'll tell you about the eyes later.

And me? In comparison? Go back a notch or two in that geology diagram.

Knuckle dragger. That's me.

So here was a nice homely scene, Miyazawa and Arima, side by side all cutsey cutsey like man and wife at the kitchen sink.

There was one thing I noticed that marred his perfection.

It was on the back of his left jacket shoulder.

I hadn't seen it in the lesson.

A little pink petal. Just one. A single sakura blossom petal.

Hm, well, it was nearly May and the sakura were flowering. Maybe he'd just had one fall on him at lunchtime.

Or maybe… just maybe…

…he had been lying down somewhere, under the trees, the petals falling like lovers dreams, drifting down, swirling around, fluttering like young hearts do…

…onto him.

And…?

My mind imagined someone (I won't say who, you'll think me weird) with him, lying on the warm spring grass, the sakura blossom fluttering onto them both…

_Dammit!__ You'll be late for history. _

I went in. They heard me. They turned.

"Uhn, 'scuse me. Forgot. Bag."

I grabbed it and went, my stammered, unnecessary "gomen nasai" hanging in the room behind me.

Hell, it's a chem. lab, not their kitchen!

What's the matter with me?

Eyes.

That's what.

They had both turned at the sound of my footsteps. I had looked back. Two pairs of eyes fixed me, nailed me to the spot.

I choked out my lame excuses and left.

I'll tell you about eyes later.

- - - oOo - - -

_9 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Four and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	5. How Can He Be Like An Anime Boy?

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Five – How Can He Be Like An Anime Boy? **

Well, I may as well get this over with.

I mean, everyone else talks about him, so why shouldn't I?

Do I sound weary? Fed up? Envious? Bitter?

If I do, that's good, I can at least convey my emotions exactly.

In the real world people are average. Mostly.

Like me.

Average looks. Average intelligence. Average skills. Averagely average. Tediously average.

But in story land, in a made up world, everyone is special. Clever. Handsome. Considerate. Friendly. Bubbling over with ability. Strong. Funny. Popular. Easy-going. Expensively dressed. Helpful. Gorgeous.

Like Arima.

How can someone this nice exist?

He can't be real can he?

People like him only happen in manga, or in anime. Or maybe in young girl's fantasies.

Or young boys, possibly. If they're that sort of boy.

_sigh _

Arima Soichiro is just too good to be true. And my problem is, instead of actually going up to him and talking to him and getting to know him and finding out if he will be friendly…

…I stand at a distance and make judgements and get cross because he is what I'm not, he has what I haven't, he will be what I won't, he can get what I can't, he has the friends I don't.

Which is my problem really. Isn't it?

It is.

I stand here on the sidelines holding people at a distance, not letting them close because they frighten me and when I see people basking among their friends, easy, chatting, happy…

…I get royally hacked off.

So who am I to moan?

Why don't I walk up to him and say

"Hi? Can you help me? I need this / where is this / found this / can't solve this calculus problem?"

- - - oOo - - -

Because I'm shy.

Painfully, hopelessly, tragically.

Introverted. I think is the technical word.

So I want something and when I can't have it I get stupid and find fault with it _because_ it's something I want and can't have.

That's sad enough that I'm sure it's a recognized medical condition and has a long unpronounceable name.

Not that I _want _Arima Soichiro. Uh, don't get me wrong, please don't misunderstand. I'm not talking about _that_.

Well…?

No, definitely, not. I'm not like _that_.

But I just would like, once in a while, for someone to notice me.

"Hey Ryusaki, good job!"

"Thanks for helping with that chemistry experiment."

"Great job, you did well."

"Thank you."

"Uhm, Ryusaki, would you help here?"

"Excuse me please, but there's something I'd like you to do for me."

_sigh _

I'm doing a lot of sighing today. _Maybe Ryusaki the Loser will get off their backside and do something about this?_

I thought.

But then…

…came _that_ day. A day I never dreamed I would see.

Because, you see, it turned out I didn't need to get off my backside and do anything about it. The chance came to me.

- - - oOo - - -

It was a few weeks into the first semester, after the mid-term exams. Over which I will quickly draw a heavy veil concerning my performance therein. I mean, had the scoreboard extended down through the floor and into the basement and had students actually _wanted_ to go down and stand by the central heating furnace to read it, only there would they have found my name.

Rather than up at the top of the board alongside the Miyazawa Yukino's, the Arima Soichiro's and the Taneoka Tomohiko's.

Mind you, I did discover, due to him standing there looking, that the John Lennon wannabe is called Asaba Hideaki.

So exam scoreboards do have their uses. And Asaba was just down near the floor tiles rather than in the furnace room, so I felt at least some affinity to _him_.

Anyway...hmmm... _that_ day...

I was at my desk, trying to catch up some work over lunch. And getting cross with myself because I hate trigonometry.

I hate it.

I'm even more rubbish at trig than I am at calculus. Anything to do with numbers and I lose the plot very soon after the multiplication tables.

Mention log tables to me and you may as well be talking about a picnic in the woods.

There's only one thing I hate more than doing trigonometry and that's doing trigonometry during lunch break because if I don't get this done Kawashima-sensei is gonna kill me this afternoon and I simply have to do it now, it's my last chance before I die, while around me the class chats and laughs and eats and makes me feel even more miserable.

Then a shadow fell across my desk.

I was about to tell some joker to move aside.

I looked up.

"Hi. Excuse me, I've been watching you working. You seem to be in pretty deep there. Anything I can help you with?"

Red hair, collar length, clipped back with a long fringe. Red-hazel eyes. A smile I could die for (and probably will if I don't get this done).

The girl who has two faces and wears only one. The strange girl who knows everyone but no-one. The girl who is helpful and clever but one day showed me a pathological glint of fury towards Arima that still disturbs me in my dreams.

"Uh, hi."

"Well?"

"Um."

"That's the math homework problems for next period isn't it?"

"Uh."

As you can see my conversation skills are at the knuckle dragger level too.

"You didn't finish them in time?"

"Kind of."

"I'm happy to help."

"Uh."

"If you want."

"Gomen."

"You're Ryusaki aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I'm Miyazawa."

"Yes. I know. I saw you around."

"You're very quiet."

"Hm."

"Here, let me see."

She turned my book around and from nowhere produced a pencil. She drew up a chair and sat. The pencil went in her mouth and she chewed on it a moment, ticking her teeth against it. The point flicked up and down.

"Are you OK with sines, cosines and tangents?"

"Um, mostly. Look you don't have to help."

She looked up and beamed at me.

"I know."

The sun came out and winter became spring.

She sat there with me for twenty minutes and helped work through all the problems with me. Finally we were done.

"Um, Miyazawa?"

"Hm?"

"Arigato."

"That's OK."

She stood up.

"Uh, bye."

She turned back to me. I was still gawping.

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Me neither. I was waiting for someone but it looks like he got held up somewhere."

"Oh."

I stared at my hands on my desk.

"Would you like to eat with me?"

"Well… actually I don't have any lunch. I was in kind of a hurry this morning…"

I trailed off, partly in embarrassment at sounding like such an idiot and partly because stringing sixteen words together in a row had completely overloaded me. My social skills circuits were smouldering.

"I'll share mine with you. If you don't mind stuffed cumquat. Hm, and eggplant."

"I don't want to be an inconvenience…"

"Don't be silly. _I'm_ asking _you_. If you were an inconvenience, I wouldn't ask."

Damn, she was nice. As well as clever and pretty.

"Ah."

Was my linguistically stunning come back to her perfect logic.

"Wait, I'll get my food."

She went across the room to her desk by the window. My eyes followed her. She got her lunch out and turned to come back but then a movement at my right shoulder caught my eye.

Arima came in. All at once the noise level in the room went down a few notches as conversations stopped and heads turned. He went over to her and held out a thick wad of papers. I couldn't catch the conversation, his back was to me. But I could see her face and what I saw there deeply puzzled me. Something was going on in this exchange that wasn't nice. He held the papers out for a long moment and eventually she took them but I could see she didn't want to. On her face was that small trace of anger again.

And something else.

Something that bothered me even more than that brief nuclear blast of anger I'd seen at the enrolment ceremony.

It was loathing. It came and went quickly but it was most definitely there. I'd bet thirty trig problems on it.

Miyazawa loathed Arima.

Why?

He was the ultimate student (see above - I won't go over that again, it annoyed the heck out of me the first time I said it all), so why did Miyazawa hold him in such contempt? What issues were there between them that I'd missed until now?

I know there were a couple of rumours floating around. They'd been _seen_ together. Shock, horror. Gasp. Everyone knew what that meant. It meant he'd practically had her panties off. But even I could see how nice a student Miyazawa was, how helpful, how popular. And Homo-Bloody-Perfect-Arima-Sapiens wasn't into groping girls so early in a relationship. I'm no expert (the world's most complete non-expert I should imagine) but even I can see when a boy isn't like _that_.

Arima Soichiro had many qualities. Being a perverted panty grabber wasn't one of them.

So if the rumours were true and they had been seen together… and they weren't going out with each other… _and_ Miyazawa hated him...

Well, what did all that add up to?

Damned if I could work it out.

- - - oOo - - -

He left the room.

I tried to catch his eye but he looked straight ahead, his face bearing that easy relaxed almost sleepy look it usually does.

So calm, so beautiful.

I asked myself again, randomly,

_Why is he in school? Why isn't he a top earner at a model agency? _

_Why didn't I get drawn by the same manga artist he did? _

Miyazawa came over to me.

"Gomen nasai, Ryusaki, I have to help out Arima with some committee meeting reports. It'll take me all lunch."

"Oh."

If you get the chance, don't attend the Ryusaki School of Conversational Skills. It's shite. Only one student ever graduated. And they scraped their knuckles on the way out.

"But since I offered, would you like to eat lunch with me tomorrow?"

"Uh, oh. Sure. Thanks, Miyazawa."

"No problem. Bye."

"Um, bye."

She returned smoothly and lightly to her desk.

And of course I watched her go.

Although I wasn't really looking.

I was thinking about committee reports, anger, loathing, boy-models and panty grabbing. Although not necessarily in that order.

- - - oOo - - -

_11 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Five and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	6. Does She Know Arima Is In The Gestapo?

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Six – Does She Know Arima Is In The Gestapo? **

And that, strange as it may seem, is how I got to know Miyazawa Yukino. At first it was pretty quiet. We'd eat some lunch and I'd not say much. She'd help me with my work, and I'd not say much. We might bump into each other by the outdoor study benches, and I'd not say much. I'd come across her and Arima talking and I'd say even less. I once saw them sat on the grass by some bushes and I went on by and said nothing at all.

But I studied her. And him. And watched.

Something damn odd was going on.

My senses could feel it. I could be near them and stick my tongue out and _taste _it.

Things were changing.

Her odd sharp moments of anger and complete lack of respect for him vanished. One day they just weren't there anymore. Having spoken to others I now know what happened (and of course the story Miyazawa has told everyone is much better known than mine, so you all know pretty much what I do, more maybe) but at the time it was.

Just.

Plain.

Weird.

She went from an Arima-loather to an Arima-liker very quickly. Almost overnight.

Which makes me laugh because of course we all know that is exactly what happened.

It was him.

All along, he'd liked her. Right from the day he first saw her.

It's funny, that day I saw them washing up in the chem. lab? Remember? That might have even been their first proper conversation.

Ha ha, I'm famous.

I knew Miyazawa and Arima when they first met. I'll be signing copies of my book in the mall at eleven.

But, yes. It was him. He liked her and just went for it. At first he did something that pissed her off, which was to be a better student than her and to steal the limelight and attention from her.

That was the cause of that nuclear blast at the enrolment ceremony. He was a better student and she hated that. She owned the top spot and wouldn't accept being toppled from it.

Wow, was she a child then. So immature.

She waged some kind of crazy war against him, loathing him, but he bided his time and then, one day...

It involved some physical contact one evening late near the sport equipment store so I'm told, although I know him, he's no panty grabber, so I just don't believe those stories of him chasing her along corridors and jumping out of windows and grabbing her and throwing her to the floor and making her cry. That doesn't sound like Arima at all does it?

No, can't have been like that, it sounds like some daft shoujo manga nonsense. Real life isn't half as exciting.

But, well, _something_ happened. And only two people on this earth know. And they're not telling. But after that, well, they weren't exactly _going out_ but she didn't flash blue murder in her eyes at him any more.

And those were the days I'd see them talking on the wall near the bushes and go past and decide not to stop.

And interrupt.

They were talking, quietly. Heads close together.

And I knew that was no place for me to intrude.

- - - oOo - - -

Then one day.

"Hey, Ryusaki, over here!"

"Oh, hi Miyazawa."

"Ryusaki, do you know Arima?"

"Um."

Yes, better than you possibly. I'm a top class analyst and stalker, didn't you know? Give me a security camera network and some bugging devices and the worlds governments would be begging me to work for them.

"Hello Ryusaki."

"Oh, hi."

Shy as always.

"You're in the swimming club aren't you?"

"How did you know?"

"I see you in the pool sometimes. The kendo hall is next door. If we finish early and the pool is still open I put my head round the door."

"Oh."

"You're pretty good. Fast."

"Um. Thanks. I hear you're good at kendo too."

"Well, not really. Our team captain is the guy to see, he's awesome."

"Right."

"Do you want to stop and eat with us, Ryusaki?"

I knew she was just being polite, so I decided to be polite too. And diplomatic.

"Uh, no thanks. You guys look like you're…"

"Gomen?"

"Uh, busy. You look busy. Bye."

I turned on my heel and went.

Damn!

Was that a blush?

_Why are you blushing you idiot? _

_Arima saw you swimming. _

_And? _

_So what? _

_How long did he watch you for? _

_And, more importantly, why? _

I was confused.

I didn't really know what I was doing hanging out with Miyazawa.

Sure she was really helpful with the math stuff.

And a nice person.

And I sort of thought I knew Arima too.

It wasn't really a friendship, but well, I felt better now than I had at the start of the semester. I could at least talk to a couple of people without going bright red and breaking out in a cold sweat and acting like a fool.

It was better than nothing.

But I was still as useful as a fifth wheel. As comfortable as a porcupine pillow.

I could see them growing closer together, just when I thought I was getting to know Miyazawa, I felt like I shouldn't intrude and so we drifted apart.

For now.

We would drift back later, in the strangest of circumstances, but for now…

…she and he were…

…busy. So I left them to it.

But I kept watching them. How could I not? Their relationship was just so damn odd.

- - - oOo - - -

And Arima.

He was so damn odd too.

Yes, it was easy to see what a girl would see in him. Superficially he was beautiful. Not just in looks but talents too; a great sportsman; the finest student academically as well. Ah, well, I've told you all this already.

But he was hardly the life and soul of the party. Always quiet, always sombre. I could never imagine him doing karaoke for example, or dancing. He struck me as a guy more comfortable looking round a museum or an art gallery, sitting listening to Bach perhaps.

Calm, quiet.

Boring even.

That will shock some girls I should think, knowing how much they fawn over him.

But to me I could imagine him being pretty dull. Most of the time.

But some days he would be a different person.

Moody.

Closed in.

Shut down.

Dark.

Yes, that's the word. A dark person.

Sulking and broody and suspicious. I might walk past him in the corridor and raise a hand in greeting and any "hi" that might be forming on my lips would die at the expression on his face.

He had eyes like a demon some days. I never saw him be violent (although I'd heard stories) but he was like a panther. Lurking in a dark corner, waiting to pounce. Who he planned to pounce on I had no idea. I once saw him standing on the stairs. Part way down, near the corridor turning. Just standing. His eyes boring into the floor in front of him. It was spooky. At those times he was someone else.

You know what I think?

I think there are two Arima Soichiros studying at Hokuei High.

There is Pale Arima who is Miyazawa's friend, the model student and all round nice guy. Mr. Beautiful But Boring. He is seen a lot.

And some days, not many, just some.

The Other Arima comes into school.

The Dark Arima.

I've seen him only a few times but I'll never forget those days. All I can say about Dark Arima is – well, you know Hitler in World War Two had a secret police force? Yes? The Gestapo? They would turn up at someone's house in the middle of the night and knock on the door and haul them away for questioning. And you never saw that neighbour again. And these Gestapo officers would hang about on street corners at night in long dark leather coats.

Brooding.

Sinister.

Evil.

You know exactly what I mean don't you?

That was Dark Arima.

Pale Arima was an interesting guy, but I feel sure Miyazawa never met Dark Arima. Because if she had, she would have run a mile and not gone back.

- - - oOo - - -

_11 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Six, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	7. Conversations And Confusions

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seven – Conversations And Confusions **

Through the swimming club I met a girl called Eguchi and although she was a quiet person as well, we seemed to find something in common through our interest in sport. She was medium height, medium build, medium niceness, medium pretty much everything. She didn't especially stand out in any way (although her hair was dyed a light reddish brown which I find quite odd with Japanese. You see it a lot in anime and manga but in real life it makes you look twice). She was quite cute though and wore it long and loose and straight.

But finally I had someone to lunch with and do math and English homework with. I still saw Miyazawa but our paths began to cross less often.

She was helping people out less, generally.

I certainly noticed that.

I assumed she was spending more time with Arima but then I began to hear the stories.

She'd turned someone down when they asked her to help with an English quotation paragraph. She'd been heard raising her voice in a corridor once, twice. Again.

She'd been seen running crazily across the quad one day.

She just never used to do these things.

It was as though she'd become a different person. At first, when school began she was the perfect student, helpful, calm, refined, smartly dressed, always willing to be involved, the best at everything.

Then, about the time she got mixed up with Arima she changed into a sharper, crazier, less helpful girl.

But he…

_He_ didn't change at all. He could still be seen quietly chatting with his mates, and quietly studying, or steadily moving up the scoreboard of the kendo club or playing soccer. _He_ got together with _She_ and produced _He – and Someone Else_. Like a chemical reaction that produces strange fumes or leaves behind an odd residue. Together they were the reaction.

But she was the odd residue.

I had never been involved with anyone.

Well.

Not willingly.

So I had no idea what going out with someone was like, what effects it had, what changes it caused and what love felt like.

It seemed to me the effects could vary a lot.

Arima hardly showed any.

Miyazawa flipped.

Totally.

She went wacko.

She changed completely.

She let her dress style slacken, no longer was she so immaculate, she would come to school one day with a hair slide slightly crooked, or a red hair on her jacket collar, or a scuff on her shoe.

Yeah, right, so that doesn't sound like much.

But before, that never happened. _Ever._ She looked like she stepped off a magazine cover. I could imagine her, before, spending ten minutes in front of the mirror before she stepped out her door. Just. _Checking._

But now…

…you know what I think?

I think she looked human. Natural. She took on the character of someone much more believable. She made small mistakes in her dress code, she was loud in the corridors, she ran around a lot, she stopped being an unnaturally smooth helpful person and just became.

What's the word I'm grasping for?

Yes, that's it.

_Normal_

Miyazawa became normal.

And that encouraged me.

If being in love made you normal, maybe there was hope for even me.

- - - oOo - - -

We went through a rainy spell, about two weeks. It happens in early summer in middle Japan.

Walking with Eguchi down a corridor one day. Ahead of us were a group of boys outside a classroom. Arima was with them.

Miyazawa came along. Although these days I thought of her more and more as _Myzwa _a wild, unpredictable hornet buzzing about the place, worrying people. She went up to the group.

"Move it!"

The four boys turned and stared.

"Get out of my way."

She muttered through gritted teeth and from beneath scowling brows,

They moved it.

They got out of her way.

She went in the classroom.

Arima stared after her, quite obviously as puzzled as I was.

- - - oOo - - -

And another wet day.

I was in the study room and heard a commotion outside.

A guy from my class I vaguely knew came in.

"Hey, Ryusaki, did you hear what?"

I looked up.

My expression told him I hadn't heard what.

"You didn't see?"

I frowned a look of didn't-seeing.

"Arima just hit Miyazawa! In the corridor just now. Second floor near chem. lab one."

"_He_ hit _her?_"

"Yeah, well, he kind of slapped her away. He was walking along and I saw her run up to him and ask him something. Something about _"…happy this way?"_ and he swung his arm and knocked her hand away. He shouted at her."

"What did he say?"

"You'll never believe this. _"Just leave me alone would you!"_ He was really shouting. She looked shocked."

As you would.

"And he stormed off."

Wow.

The perfect couple. But evidently not the perfect friendship.

_I wonder what's going on? _

_Maybe having a girlfriend isn't such a good thing after all? _

- - - oOo - - -

_12 – 13 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Seven, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	8. Eguchi Tries To Be Friends With A Schizo

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Eight – Eguchi Tries To Be Friends With a Schizo **

Eguchi and I had known each other a week and we were getting on really well.

Well, by my standards we were getting on well.

I must have smiled nearly three times in that week _and_ spoken over fifty words in one of our conversations.

Unheard of.

"So you don't know anyone else here that was from your middle school?"

"No."

"Don't you find that hard?"

"No."

"Oh. I would."

"I had no friends in middle school anyway."

"You didn't! Wow, that's sad."

" 'S Okay."

"Didn't you meet _anyone_ in middle school?"

"Sure."

"And?"

I looked at her. This wasn't going anywhere. I had never had anyone I could call a friend. Not for long anyway. Not since 5th grade, the year before I left elementary school.

The year before The Incident.

After The Incident I had never made friends again, not with anyone, boy or girl.

After The Incident I went right off people.

Especially everyone.

"Nothing came of it."

"Boyfriend or girlfriend?"

"Neither. Really."

She rolled her eyes.

"Ryusaki, you're really hard to get to know."

"Gomen."

"Which is why," she grinned at me, "I like you. You're hard to get to know and I like a challenge."

"You got your work cut out."

"And," she came closer, I could smell perfume, "I like you."

"Uh. Okay."

_Geez, you really can swing a great conversation, you know that? _

**_Ryusaki?_**

**_You know what?_**

_What? _

**_You're screwed up._**

_Yeah. You don't need to remind me. I know. _

**_You need unscrewing._**

_Well screw you! I like it this way! _

**_No you don't!_**

_Leave me alone! I hate you! _

_I hate you brother, you fucked me up. I HATE YOU! _

"Well," she said, still smiling and evidently oblivious to the screaming conversation in my head, "I still like you. You don't have any pretences. You don't wear a mask."

"Oh."

**_You think we don't wear a mask Eguchi? Really you think that? We're telling you, you don't wanna see behind this mask, girl. Oh, no._**

"Look, I have some friends from middle school. Would you like to meet them too? We can be a gang. Come on, I'll introduce you."

"No, Eguchi, really, it's OK."

"No it's not OK. You need to be around people more. They're not trolls. They won't bite your head off. You can just sit with us and chill out, OK?"

"Hm…"

It didn't sound OK to me. It sounded like I was being pressured. It sounded like someone would ask me something and I'd go bright red, clam up and break out into a sweat.

Again.

She stood up and held out her hand.

"Come on. Life's too short to dance with ugly men."

"I don't even dance."

"No sweat. Learning to dance is something else we can do."

"Eguchi?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh. I dunno…"

"Aw, Ryusaki, c'mon. I know you'll like them. They're three really nice people. And they're not nutcases, you know, doing silly stuff like throwing food in the movie theatre or wrecking karaoke bars. They're cool. I know they'll like you."

"Look, I just…don't mix very well. So don't try to involve me in stuff."

"OK, that's cool too. You just hang with us for a bit and see if you like it, hm?"

"Well…"

"Good. Come on."

Her hand was still held out. I stood up. I took

it.

I.

Took.

Her.

Hand.

It was warm.

It was soft.

It felt like…

Friendship.

_When was the last time I held anyone's hand? _

_Mom's I guess. That would be? When? _

_I remember. _

_The morning she died. _

_Yes. _

_I held her hand. In the hospital. As she lay dying. _

**_Oh, yes, think about that now, why don't you? Go on have a good old wallow…_**

_Go away! _

- - - oOo - - -

There were just a few people in the classroom. It was lunch time after all and it was a sunny day. Nearly everyone was outside.

Eguchi went towards one group of three girls.

She had let go of my hand a long way back, once we were out of the sunshine and in the locker area.

I regretted that.

It had been nice to hold her hand.

It wasn't just my first human contact for four years that made me appreciate it.

There was something else.

Something that was both nice

And that bothered me.

A feeling I think I could work out.

Only I didn't want to have such a feeling.

So I pushed it away.

But even so... the feeling of human contact. The feeling that said "here is a person who cares."

I liked that.

I looked at the group of girls. Another brown haired girl, slim and tall. A second girl with long black hair, cut into a pretty style. She was rather dumpy but had a great smile. And a third girl…

She was…

- - - oOo - - -

I'll tell you who she was later. Meanwhile, let me tell you what I had seen a couple of weeks earlier.

You know, I'm not a religious person.

But can a person who isn't religious see a vision from heaven?

- - - oOo - - -

Yes, they can.

I did.

But I didn't go to heaven.

This vision took me the other way.

- - - oOo - - -

_13 - 15 May 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Eight, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	9. The Spirits That Live In Her Eyes

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Nine – The Spirits That Live In Her Eyes **

_Hope dangles on a string  
Like slow spinning redemption,  
Winding in and winding out  
The shine of it has caught my eye  
And roped me in. _

_So mesmerizing, and so hypnotizing,  
I am captivated,  
I am..._

_- Dashboard Confessional, Vindicated  
_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

It's funny isn't it?

How really important things happen in your life but you can never put your finger on when they started. Like trying to chase down a dream that fades in the morning.

The more you try to think about it the harder it becomes.

The more it slips away.

Just out of reach.

I cannot remember when I first noticed her.

Or why.

I think I vaguely remember a person sitting at that desk, day after day.

Just another student.

Working. Talking. Lunching. Thinking.

Exactly like everyone else.

But one day (I can't remember when, it must have been May or early June, at least the sakura blossom had all fallen so maybe May. Certainly it was before Eguchi introduced us).

But one day, it was a geography test and the room was quiet and we were working (geography is one of the few things I'm good at, mainly because you don't need to be clever) and I was thinking.

Dreaming maybe?

No. Thinking. I know I was. What was it I was worrying about?

Hm, I remember now. Ox bow lakes. That was it.

And for inspiration I looked up.

Two desks over to my left she was and one row behind, pen in hand working away. Busy, confident, the answers flowing out of her mind onto the paper in a perfect uninterrupted stream. No meandering there. No ox bow lakes.

Yes, it must have been toward summer because the sun was shining. Hot rays of it came in the window and made the boys sweaty and the girls glow. One slice of it lay across her desk. And her white hand moved through it. A slender hand with long fingers. But she bit her nails. I could see them ragged and blunt.

Don't bite your nails.

Mom said to me.

They won't grow straight.

_Don't bite your nails, woman with black hair, grow them long and straight. _

_And scrape them across my skin. _

_Cut me with them. _

_As you cry out. _

(Can you blush, just by thinking about fingernails? I did, the day I first looked, really looked at _her_).

I looked up from her hand to her face. I couldn't see her face.

Her long black hair hung down in a curtain between me and her. She hid behind the curtain. An actress not yet ready to come on stage.

Then…

…my life began.

My short life began again facing a direction I'd never expected…

…she came out from behind the curtain. She put her pen down and rubbed her wrist and then with the first two fingers (…bitten nails…) of her hand she pushed the long hair back behind her ear.

The sun sparkled on that hair, every strand had a tiny rainbow go dancing down it and off the end. Clean shiny straight black hair does that in the sunlight. Blonde or red or brown hair never has quite that sheen, quite that kind of rainbow dance. I wonder why?

Her ear was perfect. I don't think I'd ever seen such a pretty ear. I could have sat and looked at that ear all day...

…if it wasn't for the fact that something much more captivating was revealed from behind the curtain.

Her face.

You, who have never seen this face, cannot comprehend how beautiful the human face can be.

White skin, clear and smooth. A broad flat Japanese nose with its wide end and separated nostrils. It's curve was ski-jump perfect with a little button end. Every curve of it was exquisite, smooth and cute. It looked like it was made of soft wax.

And her eyes. I seem to be fixated on eyes. Miyazawa's eyes, red-hazel and clever. Arima's eyes, darkest grey-blue and burning cold. John Lennon wannabe's eyes, brown, languid and teasing. But her eyes stopped me dead.

I looked down after just an instant. Back to ox bow lakes and meanders, undercutting and deposition. Sediments. Deltas.

She had seen me looking.

She had caught me and exposed me.

In only an instant I was dead, like a bug pinned on a board, wriggling and helpless.

I glanced back. She was still looking. She raised one eyebrow very slightly, held me squirming for a long, long moment...

(long enough for me to live my entire life, a life of years, and die)

...then turned back to her work.

Those eyes, they weren't the eyes of a woman not yet sixteen, they were like the weary eyes of a person twice that age. They knew things. They had seen things, experienced things I only dreamed of.

Her expression? How can you describe the one who breaks you open and pours your blood out onto the sand?

How can a wriggling bug, pinned through its centre describe its feelings?

I cannot say how her eyes looked or made me feel but I'll try.

So if you ever see eyes like these, you'll know.

Know to avoid them. Turn your back and walk away. And have nothing to do with a person whose soul looks at the world through windows like that.

Just walk away.

They were clear and dark, very dark. The irises were so dark they were almost black. I couldn't tell if they were blue or green or a colour that was both. And not round, or narrow. In fact physically they were completely unremarkable eyes.

Apart from the fact that they slanted so exquisitely.

But the spirit in them…

Most Japanese stopped believing in spirits a long time ago. Today they are just stories for children and lovers. But the parents who tell their children are wrong. The spirits are real. Too real for me to bear. I've seen them. They took away my mind.

What was in those eyes?

Calm. Intelligent. Cool. Detached. Aloof. Superior. Determined. Quiet. Sneering. Relaxed. Hard. Knowing. Gentle. Troubled.

That was what was in those eyes.

All the spirits of those emotions were in those eyes.

Izawa Maho was in those eyes.

And I was in Izawa Maho. I went into her and was lost. I could never come back.

It took only a second for my life to begin…

…and end.

- - - oOo - - -

_What is this feeling? _

_Who are you? _

_Do I know you? _

_Have I felt like this before? _

_Has mother or father or any boy or girl made me feel this way? _

_The way your eyes do? _

That white curving perfect ear. That long black rainbow dancing hair. Those slim fingers. That beautiful nose. Even those badly bitten nails.

And that raised eyebrow.

It said…

"_Who._ Are _you?_"

I don't know. I have no idea any more.

I used to be a person.

- - - oOo - - -

Now...

...I'm just a hope.

- - - oOo - - -

_10 & 13 - 15 May 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Nine, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	10. I’m Introduced To The One Who’ll Kill Me

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)**  
by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Ten – I'm Introduced To The One Who'll Kill Me **

I'll take you back, back to the future.

**_Oh, geez, c'mon, that's terrible! You can't even think without stealing old American movie titles. _**

Back to the day Eguchi took me to meet her middle school friends. Two weeks into the future from when I first saw her…

"Hi guys, here's the person I told you about. Ryusaki, meet my friends. This is Miyagi Yumi, she's originally from all the way over in Osaka. Fushida Ryoko is the brown haired one, the thinnest girl on record,"

The two girls nodded to me and smiled.

"And this is our esteemed leader, we just call her The Boss. Ryusaki, meet Izawa. Izawa Maho."

I looked.

She was…

_the girl I had seen before_

_the girl who already owned me_

_the girl who had filled my every waking hour for the last two weeks_

_and many of the sleeping ones_

…stunning.

I don't think I have ever seen such a beautiful girl.

Close to, I looked again.

For the thousandth time.

I knew her so well already. Ever hair, every pore, every curve.

A slim face and narrow, wonderfully slanted eyes, so dark…

...long, long straight black hair. A curtain of hair.

Beautiful hair, clean, shiny, fine...

Under her right eye a small black beauty spot.

She turned her head to me slightly.

Leaned back against a desk, long legs straight in front of her, ankles crossed.

Arms folded loosely below her chest.

Her gaze fell upon me.

"Hello Ryusaki."

And I was lost.

Even when she looked bored or mildly annoyed, as she did much of the time, as she did now, I was lost.

- - - oOo - - -

_13 - 14 May 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Ten, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	11. Time Passes Slowly To Those Tortured

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Eleven – Time Passes Slowly To Those Tortured **

A week must have gone by. Or two. Or three. I wasn't really counting.

If I had it wouldn't have meant anything. Each felt like a month to me.

Each hour was a day. Each minute a lifetime. Each second became forever.

The days stretched. Became toffee. And went on, and on.

Get up, drag myself out of bed, shower, eat, dress, put bedding away (when I could be bothered), walk to school.

(That took almost an hour – almost a day in which I died each time).

School. See her. Classes. Lunch. Watch her talking with her friends. Have her look at me and talk to me. And have me respond. Somehow. Classes. Feel her sitting near me, a little behind. _I can't keep turning to look._ After school clubs. Walk home. Think about her. Eat. Homework. TV or music. Read until I slept. Bed. Dream of her.

It went on, each piece of my day like another drip, and drip, another water torture hammer blow.

Each day I would ask myself…

_Why do I feel like this? What causes it? What is this feeling? Why does she make me feel this way? What would she be like to talk to alone? To have her look back at me? Ask me questions about myself? _

_To touch? _

I tried to find ways to distract myself. I spent more time at the swimming club at which I was good. I got better.

The cool water flowing across my body, the freedom of flying submerged. Underwater I was free, a bird airborne in fluid sky, a fish swimming in the highest clouds of the ocean, the ache of muscles and lungs. It helped. I found I was good. I had always been a strong swimmer, just rather uncontrolled. Raw. The team captain and coach were very good. They directed my energy and honed my skill.

After a while I found I was better than good. I was excellent. But I was still no team player. I swam alone, I hated the relay, having others rely on me to swim my lengths, I hated that. Maybe that's why I'm a swimmer and not a volleyball player, not a team player.

Underwater I am alone, no one to distract me with idle friendly conversation. No one to break into my space. That was how I wanted it.

And she wasn't there. I was free of those eyes, those dark calm, knowing spirits.

I ran too but I liked track less, other runners would speak to me and I hated that.

**_Stay away. Keep away. Don't let them near me._**

I began to eat more healthily as well.

Lose a little weight.

And I began to grow.

In more ways that one.

Taller, leaner. And in other ways.

- - - oOo - - -

_10 – 11 & 14 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Eleven, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	12. I Can't Tell You Why I'm Like This

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twelve – I Can't Tell You Why I'm Like This **

I am taking terrible liberties with you.

Gomen.

Gomen nasai.

I have been here talking to you for a long time now.

You have been very patient with me.

You still know nothing about me.

Well, a few things only.

My school, my age, that I'm shy and a loner and a good swimmer. I'm not a good student and my parents are both dead. That for a long time I had no friends. My family name.

Oh, I can tell you things like my hair is black and I keep it short. Very short in a kind of fun spiky cut. Short hair is just easier. Especially with swimming most days. A little bit of gel, scrunch my fingers through and it dries on it's own in minutes.

Hm, I just realised. You don't even know my given name.

It's very rude of me.

I don't want to be rude. It's just how I am. Because of The Incident. Because of Him.

Telling you anything is hard.

I'm telling you my story because I have to. I have to get this out, dig it all out and cast it away. I can't leave you if I don't. I need to finish so I can go. Leave it behind. Make a clean getaway.

But you see, there are some things I just can't tell you.

Please.

Please don't ask me. I just _can't_.

It hurts too much.

**_We don't want them to know, do we Saka? _**

Perhaps when I've known you a little longer I will be able to talk more. Or maybe while I'm talking with others they might help me to bring things out. Yes, I think that's possible.

Right now you must be very confused.

Why is this person telling me all this about an ordinary (mixed up but not unusually so) life in high school?

You see, I find what is going on around me fascinating.

I told you I was a loner and watched people and seemed to understand them well, even from a distance.

After The Incident I despaired. I thought I would never find love. Never understand it. At middle school I never saw it, not close up, nor from afar. I saw boys and girls "going out" but that wasn't really love. Sometimes they held hands or kissed or even touched each other. But that wasn't love either. I could tell. Yes, there were raw and honest passions there, open feelings, broken hearts.

But really, these were still just children. Just games. At times the games hurt the players or rewarded them. Lose and win. Die and live. But, you know, at that age it's not serious.

Not yet.

In middle school the kids loved on quick silly impulses.

"She's so _kawaii_, I'm going to ask her out."

"He knows a guy in a band. He's so cool."

"Her dad's got a Mercedes."

"Wow, his brother's at Tokyo U!"

"I love listening to her play the violin."

"I saw her the other day at the Ginza!"

And many of them went afterwards to different schools so the child-loving and friendships were short and shallow.

The serious stuff came later.

And here, at Hokuei High, it suddenly became a lot more serious. The games changed. Because the players changed. The stakes were higher. These players were looking ahead now. They were mature enough to see the future and see what it might hold. Careers were being planned, lives were being mapped out. Hopes had the potential to be realised.

And with those hopes, went dreams. Hand in hand.

A person could see a career ahead in law school, in banking, in medicine, at the next Olympics. And some of those dreams were held in common. A companion could hold your hand and help you get there, support you, encourage you, have your child.

Suddenly, overnight, between the end of middle school in March of 1995 and the start of high school in April, just a few weeks later, it all changed. Now university beckoned, that design post at Mazda, that Sony robotics phd. grant, that record producers chair. All were within reach.

You see?

These lovers were not looking forwards as far as the end of the semester.

Some were astute and mature enough to be looking forwards for ever. Or at least as far as they could see.

Some horizons were more limited than others. Some were fantastic horizons, borne on the winds of hopeless hope.

But, the point was, it was all different now. At fifteen years old, at sixteen, these were no longer children but were starting to feel the sun, to grow, to mature. They not only grew up into the warm sunshine, they could see the long day ahead. Measure it. Understand what it held for them. And they wanted a special companion with them as they went.

One day, while we were talking, Miyazawa herself summed it up perfectly for me:

"We are small flowers who do not yet have names."  
"Supported by the larger stems, we finally begin to bud…"  
"…and dream of the future…"  
"…dream of the day, under a clear blue sky, when we will blossom."

Which is why I found Miyazawa and Arima so interesting.

Here was a really strong connection between two hearts. These two people really understood and trusted one another. Here I saw my first true love. It was amazingly strong. I thought to myself:

_Here is a love that will endure._

Where did I first see it?

You know I said before that it's funny that you sometimes can't remember when really important things happen?

Well sometimes you can.

I know exactly when I first witnessed true love. Where I was, what I was doing, the day, the date, the time. What was flying around in my head. Everything.

I remember it well because it was one of only two true loves I have experienced. One of them, this one I watched from afar. I touched it, now and again, was quite close to it at times. Was privileged to see it's deep power. Both healing and rending.

The other, I think you might have begun to guess now, was closer to home.

Much closer.

Too close, in the end.

Let me tell you first about that first love I saw, that distant love I saw and marvelled at.

It was a summer's day, early morning before first period. A freshman student's council meeting. Thursday June 8th 1995, 7:40a.m.

And my ankle itched.

- - - oOo - - -

_14 -15 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Twelve and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	13. Holding Hands Is Such A Simple Thing

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirteen – Holding Hands Is Such A Simple Thing **

It did itch. Really it did. And fate would have it that at the exact moment I decided to bend down and scratch my ankle, was also the moment she chose to demonstrate her love.

Co-incidence is a peculiar thing.

A long string of co-incidences is even more peculiar.

They began with a phone call.

While I was in the bath, of all places.

Dripping wet, I answered it, a towel round my head.

"Hello? Is that Ryusaki?"

"Yes," a wet muffled towelly sort of answer, "who's this?"

"Muramatsu Chiose. Kensuke's mother."

_Oh? _

"From the swimming club. The club captain."

_Swimming club?_ I was puzzled.

"At school."

_Well, duh. Where else? The train station? _

"I'm so sorry to bother you late at night, I hope I haven't called at an inconvenient time?"

"No, its fine," I answered watching the puddle of water spread across the wooden floor and reach the far wall.

Ryusaki, if you're going to leap out of the bath and grab the first towel that comes to hand, try and make it a big bath towel and not a stupid little twenty-four by eighteen inch hand towel.

Or even the bathrobe you hung on the back of the door would do. You know, if your tiny brain is completely out of options.

"I'm calling because Kensuke is ill, he has a fever of nearly a hundred and I'm keeping him off school tomorrow."

This was all very interesting. Almost as interesting as the shape of the stain that was growing up the wallpaper at the far side of my hallway. It promised to be quite an impressive shaped stain. A cat maybe, or a crouching fox.

Or possibly a naked dripping wet increasingly annoyed teenager.

"I know you are the closest other swimming club member to us and, well, it's the student council meeting in the morning. Kensuke has to submit his club report. And I was wondering if you could hand it in at the meeting for him?"

_A student meeting? That would mean… speaking in front of the others wouldn't it? _

_**Saka can't do that! **_

"Uh…"

"So is it alright if his father comes round tonight and drops it off?"

"Um, yes, I guess so."

_Just say yes and end the call. I'm wet and freezing cold. _

"Good, thank you so much. I'm so grateful to you. He'll be there in half an hour."

"Okay. Uh…"

"Yes?"

"I hope Kensuke is feeling better in the morning."

"Arigato. Well. Goodnight."

" 'Night."

_That was almost a conversation. Careful now.  
_  
I lay the phone back in its wall cradle. Water had dripped off all the bits of me that stood proud of my body, and run down the rest. The wood floor was soaking. I wiped my neck and chest. The bathroom was opposite the main room of the big (very old, and now very empty) single storey house. In there was the dining table and chairs and the big old fashioned kitchen. The large window faced the street. At the end of this hallway the main hall turned right in front of the large downstairs room where the TV, music centre and books were. I even still kept the old kotatsu in there. Just in case I had some of my huge circle of stylish friends round for formal dinner you know. My dad had always called it the library.

"I'll be in the library, dear."

He would call out to mom as though he were a country gentleman going to relax in kimono and tatami sandals.

It had been a long time since I'd heard him call out to her.

Seven years. Almost half my life. Mom had been dead almost half my life.

And dad a quarter of it.

_sigh_

The bedrooms were at the back of the house to my left. Four of them. Three were empty now.

It was a big house for just one person. Built between the wars, traditional, wooden, big and expensive to keep warm in winter and hard work to keep clean at any time. Not that I dirtied many of the rooms.

Kitchen. Bathroom. My bedroom. Although many nights I'd lay my futon down in the library and sleep there with music or the TV for company.

When you live alone you can please yourself.

At the angle of the hallway where it turned right to the front door was a full length mirror. Mother used to do her hair in front of it when I was tiny. And brush my hair in the mornings before I left for elementary school.

Now I was reflected in it.

I looked at the person in the mirror.

The exercise at the swimming club was starting to pay off, as was the burger-free diet. I always saw myself as plain, unattractive, not good-looking, ordinary.

I turned sideways to the mirror and dropped the towel.

Definitely not in the cute or hot categories. Fortunately not in the fat one either. But this person wasn't actually that bad. And they were certainly growing fast.

Was this person cute yet?

Well, maybe not. But close.

But maybe. I stood upright, held my spine straight. Looked again.

And, I was reminded, this person was freezing.

- - - oOo - - -

And I was reminded later by Kensuke's father that the council meeting was at seven in the morning, an hour before school usually started. And he usually gave a short summing up speech. He'd written a few notes down to guide me.

_Oh, yeah, right. Thanks. An hour less sleep then. _

_And speaking in public. Thanks a bunch. I hope the fever is nothing trivial. _

_**Oh, yes, speaking in public, Saka. Ha, ha, how I am so going to enjoy watching you shit yourself!**_

_Shut the hell up, you bastard._

- - - oOo - - -

I sat in the meeting room, as close to the door as I could, as close to my escape route, trying to be invisible.

Sweating, nervous, bricking myself in fear.

"Oh, hi, Ryusaki!"

"Oh, Miyazawa. Hi."

"Ohayo Arima-kun."

He scowled at me, his eyes hardly showing emotion.

_In a good mood today then, hm? _

_Dark or Pale? Dark or Pale? Hm, Pale I think. Just. _

_Touch and go though for a minute there. _

I sat and said nothing throughout.

And co-incidence number two came along.

Fortunately when the swimming club report was required I merely stood and handed it to the council president. No words necessary. They had been contacted by Kawashima-sensei the year-master and advised that the swimming club captain was ill. They were not expecting a summary of the report.

There was a God after all.

Which was good. I was red faced and panicky enough, self conscious enough just being here. Opening my mouth and having to form coherent sentences was beyond me in front of twenty of the brightest students in the year.

- - - oOo - - -

Which meant that I was still mentally stable when it happened.

When.

When I saw love.

And it was the most beautiful, the most simple thing I had ever seen.

They were the only two people in the room I knew. It wasn't strange that I should look at them from time to time.

Arima seemed pretty chilled out, he was leaning back in his chair, pushed back from the table, his legs straight out in front of him. He fiddled with a pen, tapping it against his teeth. Holding it in his left hand. His right arm limp, relaxed, hanging down by his chair.

Miyazawa was just the opposite. Sat upright to the table, legs tucked under her, ankles crossed.

She was nervous about something, preoccupied. I could see it as clearly as if she'd held up a six foot banner saying **DANGER. KEEP AWAY. STRESSED OUT FEMALE. TRESPASSERS WILL BE VIOLENTLY LAMBASTED. **

Which was the third co-incidence; the fact that she was tense held my attention.

And then, co-incidence four.

The itch.

The most helpful, fortuitous and downright wonderful itch I've ever had.

I slipped down under the desk to scratch my ankle.

I glimpsed movement. I stayed bent over.

I looked.

A hand.

Her hand.

I watched it, bemused, fascinated.

It moved out from her side slowly, very slowly. I glanced up.

She was looking at him, looking to her left. She had such a wonderful look on her face. Still nervous, still filled with trepidation, but now…

…now there was a tender glimmer there, a hopeful, _wanting_ sort of look.

I have never, either before or since, seen Miyazawa Yukino look so lovely. When God created girls He had that face in His mind's eye, I'm sure of it.

At that instant she was His template.

She was the very essence of a nervous, fretting virgin, about to do something so important, so vital to her future existence that she hardly dare do it. She was afraid. She was scared to death. She was risking all, moving her left hand twelve inches was almost killing her.

I wanted to love her.

I wanted to step over, lift that beautiful, hopeful, daring hand and kiss it.

But fortunately for her, for him, and ultimately for me, I didn't.

I merely sat, bent uncomfortably over pretending the itch was still there. And looking, lost in the moment.

I was watching love, seeing it happen.

The hand, her hand, slim and white and delicate, moved out and came behind his.

I think it took most of the summer to get there and it was autumn and the leaves were falling and the days were getting shorter when.

She touched him.

Her hand closed around his and she held it, applied gentle pressure.

It was a space shuttle meeting a satellite. A perfect docking manoeuvre.

For an instant nothing happened.

Then he turned his head just a little to look at her.

She looked at him.

I clicked my mind's shutter and froze that frame for ever in my memory.

If I had to choose just one word to describe that look, it would be.

Shy.

Miyazawa was many things, all sorts of crazy, loud, energetic, clever, laughing things. But one thing she certainly wasn't, was shy.

Except today. The day that she held his hand. And love came into that room.

Her face coloured, a gentle blush creeping right over her from her throat upwards.

And him?

Him as well, I'm delighted to say. He blushed too, just a little, just across his cheeks under his eyes.

I had seen enough.

I sat up.

That made three blushes in the room.

Plus love.

The first time I saw it.

I was going to see much more of it that year.

- - - oOo - - -

_15 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirteen and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	14. What Do You Think About In The Bath?

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fourteen – What Do You Think About In The Bath? **

_"Bad memories always seem to find me when I'm in the bath."_

_- Ikari Shinji, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Ep.2_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Water and I seem to have a special relationship.

I swim. I swim well, in fact.

And at home I seem to bathe a lot. These last couple of weeks I have been thinking a lot. Traditionally when I think I like to sit in warm water, it must be a regressive thing, a womb thing.

So, recently, lots of baths.

And thinking to go with it.

Anyway, please come into my bath with me, I want to talk. Just sit opposite and mind where you put your feet.

And what am I thinking about?

_-blushes -_

Some of it I can't tell you.

But the rest of it reminds me of those old records you used to be able to buy, that began to go out of fashion when CDs, and I, came into fashion.

The big round black plastic things like dinner plates.

If you didn't look after them they would get scratches across their grooves and the big heavy lump of metal you would play them with called a stylus would jump about and skip tracks or skip back to a previous track and you'd hear it over and over again.

Much like my thinking of the last dozen or so bath times.

Over and over, round and round, rinse and repeat.

It goes like this.

- - - oOo - - -

What is this feeling?

_Baka. It's love. Did you think it was your dinner going down? _

Who are you?

_The girl who has come into your life to rule your very existence. _

Do I know you?

_You probably never will. You think you will. You may even know her every mood (and hate many of them), you may one day (if you're very lucky) know every curve and hollow of her body. But you'll never know her. _

Have I felt like this before?

_Never, nor will you ever again. Not quite like this, this first time. _

Has mother or father or sis made me feel this way?

_No, how could they? They knew you. They loved you in return. _

Why do I feel like this?

_You need reasons? _

What causes it?

_The world spinning in space. Clocks ticking. Events happening. People being alive. Life, it's called life. _

Why does she make me feel this way?

_Because you love her. _

No. Why? I need to know!

(no answer comes)

What would she be like to talk to alone? To have her look back at me? Ask me questions about myself? To touch?

_Well, now we are getting to the biggies aren't we? Why don't you find out? _

How? I can't find the courage in me to talk to her…

What is this feeling? Why does it hurt so much?

_It's love, I told you that already. It hurts because you cannot have what you want. _

Izawa, what is this feeling you cause in me?

Why?

_It's the why I don't understand._

_You're a girl._

_I shouldn't feel this way about you._

_It's not right._

_I know it's not right._

_It makes me a pervert._

_A mucky, nasty, wrong-headed freak._

_But it doesn't stop me loving you._

_Izawa, I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I LOVE YOU!_

_I suppose…_

_…somehow…_

_…I'll just have to find, from somewhere…_

_…the courage…_

_…to tell you._

_But then, that'll give you the opportunity._

_To laugh at me._

_Reject me._

_"Silly Ryusaki! What are you talking about?"_

_You'll say._

_Sniggering._

_Or you'll just look at me askance, and hook your beautiful hair behind your ear._

_(killing me again in the process)_

_(please don't bite your nails)_

_And give me one of your raised eyebrow looks._

_Please, Izawa._

_Please don't reject me._

_How do I find the strength to talk to you?_

_And the opportunity?_

- - - oOo - - -

Love.

I thought love was supposed to feel nice.

Aren't I supposed to go all soft focus and have flowers around me?

So why am I hard and hurting and feeling trapped?

Why does it ache?

- - - oOo - - -

Whatever happens, one way or the other, I need to get out of this trap.

If love hurts like this I don't want it.

I want the soft focus and flowery love.

Or I want nothing.

- - - oOo - - -

_16 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fourteen, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	15. Three Snapshots From A Love Affair

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifteen – Three Snapshots From A Love Affair**

The sports festival. A day of gut wrenching physical exertion for which the athletes need to be in tip top condition.

We should train steadily for the weeks beforehand.

Building up our muscles and remaining focused zen-like on our only goal – winning!

Which is why we run around like chickens without heads for five days lifting chairs, tables, boxes of handouts, lengths of timber, rolls of sheeting and rushing the two miles there and back to the nearest library photocopier because those jerks in 1-C blew up all four school ones.

I have discovered that the master plan is to completely knacker everyone so that on the big day the weaker athletes have an equal chance.

The prefectural education board ought to hear of this corruption.

Then they could draft in a proper construction company leaving us athletes to train and to whup the ass of these weaker wannabe swimmers, runners and sportsmen.

I shake my head. It's a crazy life this school thing. Hardly any of it makes sense.

I do though remember a strange island of love within the general chaos.

I'm in the Planning and Organisation office, heck knows why. I couldn't plan and organise a swimming contest at the seaside. But I'm leafing through some paperwork and the door slams open and there she is.

Miyazawa.

Or in this case definitely _Myzwa._

Buzz, buzz, flit, flit, she goes. Busy little bee.

I look at her and she at me. She looks panicky, flustered, tired, fed up, worried.

And something else.

Desperate. Needy. Lonely. In love.

These emotions jump out at me as though they are signs she's wearing around her neck.

"Excuse me Ryusaki, has Arima come this way?"

"Oh, Miyazawa, wait a minute, Okay?"

I ask someone, get an answer.

"I'm sorry they say he went over to the Construction Department. He was here until just a while ago."

The door slams shut and she is gone.

But for a few seconds she was like an open book, shouting out her need and worry to me.

She wants him.

She's desperate to find him.

Something inside her is burning up to be with him.

Arima.

I have no idea what she plans to do to him when she finds him. Whack him, maybe like I've seen her do before.

But I don't think so.

She looks like a girl desperately in need of a hug, of a quiet minute alone with a person she can completely lean on. Who will take all her weight and let her rest.

For a full minute after she's gone I stare at the closed door. And I wonder what kind of love it is that causes those sorts of needs, makes a person wear that sort of expression.

I cannot understand it.

All I know is it's something I want to feel, I want to look like that, I want to have the thought filling my head of warm arms, a warm chest, a sweet smelling gentle place against which I can rest.

I want to love someone…

…who will love me back.

- - - oOo - - -

One Saturday Eguchi asked me to go shopping in town with her.

We were walking in Shibuya, window shopping, looking at clothes.

I looked up from a pair of shoes to see a reflection go past.

I spin around and see them from behind. They carry store bags; HMV, Tokyu Department Store, A Nigo bag from Ura-Harajuku. He wears a loose tee shirt and baggy linen trousers, she is in a short, light, flower print strappy dress.

They don't see me.

But I see them.

And they are holding hands.

I look at their hands, her smaller paler one in his larger darker one. The top of her head comes up to just below his nose.

They look like a typical couple, like ten thousand other couples out enjoying themselves.

"What?"

Eguchi has turned to see. I point.

"Miyazawa. And Arima."

"Oh, yes. Looks like they are going steady now then."

"Hm."

"Don't they look cute? He's so handsome."

_So is she_

"And look, a Nigo bag. He's so cool. Must be rich too."

We go to a Starbucks. I sit and nurse a caramel frappuccino. Eguchi has an espresso.

"Should you be drinking such strong coffee?"

"Why not? I'm sixteen already. And I love the taste. Try a sip."

I do.

It's horrible, like engine oil, black, thick and bitter.

"Ew! How can you drink that?"

"What about you? Look at all those disgusting calories."

I pout at her.

"It's a skinny anyway."

"Even the caramel sauce?"

I give no answer, but she catches me smiling.

"So you've never had a boyfriend Ryusaki?"

"I told you."

"Do you want one?"

_Now there's an interesting question._ Should I lie? I try not to.

"I'm not sure. Most of them seem like jerks. Big kids. I don't seem to have anything in common with most of them."

"You're talking a lot today."

"Am I?"

"Do you like me?"

Surprised, I gasp in breath and a trickle of frappuccino goes down the wrong way. I retch and cough and suck in choking breaths. She slaps my back then rather strangely changes to rubbing it in a heavy circular motion, and patting.

"Urh, that went down the wrong hole."

"I hope so, I hope it wasn't a reaction to my question."

Eyes still watering, still doubled over.

"Urr, yes. I like you. Why?"

_Was that wise to ask her?_

"Because you're talking a lot more these days. You never used to be this chatty."

_O RLY?_

"Um, well, I guess I do feel comfortable with you around."

I notice her hand is still on my back, still rubbing.

"I've never had a boyfriend either."

"Oh."

"Let's pretend."

"Eh?"

"Let's pretend we're girlfriend and boyfriend. Come on, let's go."

She bounces off her chair, smiling, she picks up her bag and holds out her hand.

This is the second time.

She's held out her hand to me.

_Does she like me?_

_Or…?_

Mistrust.

Mistrust creeps in again.

I can never trust people's motives.

But grabbing my bag in one hand I reach for her with the other.

Soft, warm, welcoming.

Comforting.

She holds it. She smiles and gives it a little squeeze.

"Now, we're like boyfriend and girlfriend," she laughs, and drags me out into the street.

_But which is which?_ I wonder.

But it's nice. Despite my shyness, my natural distrust.

Even if she means nothing by it, it relaxes me, encourages.

I feel like.

I have a friend.

We walk down the street and go into a mall and stop and look in windows and all the way we hold hands. For fifteen minutes we walk and look and laugh and remain joined.

And, my confession is…

…I enjoy it.

And my other confession is…

…my feelings are confused.

To her it may just be girly fun.

To me.

My insides are churning.

"So what's it like having a boyfriend?"

She asks, smiling.

Is she teasing me?

I cannot answer.

Except with a blush. I wonder if she feels the same.

I glance at her. She is looking in another window now, pointing out some tee-shirts.

But she is blushing too.

And I wish she were Izawa.

- - - oOo - - -

Another day, another moment.

It's late. I have been swimming. Alone. Hard. Forty lengths, butterfly, backstroke, front crawl, breaststroke. I'm tired, my muscles are raw, despite the goggles chlorine stings my eyes, my heart is thudding.

I get out, shower, wash my hair, dry, dress.

The pool and changing rooms are empty. All alone I become aware of the silence.

Just me here.

How I like it. I swim best, think best, relax best.

When alone.

But this evening…

…something is different. I stop, halfway into my clothes, listening.

I'm not alone.

Worry grips me, panic swirls in, filling the spaces, forcing reason out of its usual comfortable chair. It stands and looks around.

_Not you brother. Not now. Not here. Don't you come back…_

…_you bastard._

_**I'm always here. Don't you remember? Always hanging around, tasting your fear. Pretty Saka, I love you. I love your fear.**_

Listening hard, heart pounding I finish dressing, grab my bag and leave.

I shut off the lights. The sensation of not being alone jumps closer, its eyes bore into my back. I walk fast, faster to the exit.

I look outside, dark has come early. Clouds, bruised and low and steady vertical rain. The rain is heavy, solid wires. Stilts holding the clouds up. My umbrella is in the homeroom.

I'm not staying here with the dark staring into my back.

Nothing for it, bag over the head like an African woman, head down, run.

- - - - - -

The main wing is dark. Silent. The place is warm from the summer heat. It ticks and clicks and faintly sighs; a car engine cooling.

The gurgling of brown water down drains.

The slithering of snakes of it down windows.

Little noises.

I hear them all.

The place spooks me. Schools are places for daylight, bright sun, autumn wind.

They should be full of noise, of people. Laughter, shouting, yelling, crying.

But now.

Silence.

The ticking, the cooling.

The light in here is funny, green and ambiguous. The school is underwater.

Tonight I feel the differences. They shout at me, they worry me.

The sense of another presence here, close by, is even stronger.

In the locker area I listen. And drip. Towel from my bag.

It smells of chlorine.

I wipe the storm from my hair, my neck, my nose.

I choose my route to 1-A and move quickly.

Get in, get out, get home.

The darkness follows my receding back.

I glance behind, but don't catch it watching. It always ducks back behind a corner.

I hear singing. Faintly. A radio.

Who would even have a radio in school?

Let alone leave it on in the evening?

I can hear a light tune, a girl singing, humming. It's close.

In school the indoor slippers you wear are silent. You can move along the polished corridors like a ghost. No-one can hear you approach. No-one can hear you following. Being followed.

I glance back again. Empty corridor. My armpits are damp, throat is dry.

Distant thunder rumbles. Storm getting worse.

I hear the radio again. A man is talking, speaking low.

A staircase is to my left, 1-A's corridor is reached by it, two floors, one left turn at the top and I'm there.

Then I see the movement, the presence that has spooked me since the swimming pool. A flash of white, of blue, of pale skin and red hair. She is dancing, spinning, turning, laughing, singing.

She is a radio that someone left switched on.

She is a kitten playing.

I stop and duck aside under the stairs, I watch.

I forget the empty spaces, the fear that follows. The storm, its wires separating earth from sky, the ticking engine.

I watch her. Only her.

Why?

Why is she here this late, alone?

Is she waiting for the rain to end?

A thought bumps me. An imagined conversation.

"Miyazawa! Hi, are you caught here by the rain? Share my umbrella. Walk with me."

_Walk close, your hand on mine as we hold it, your warmth, your smell near me. Your shoulder touching mine through wet clothing. The raindrops in your fringe, that smell of a wet cotton blouse against hot skin. You're wet. Here, let me dry you…_

The fantasy goes on, wending its happy, perverted way.

I realise my mouth is open as I watch her.

She is happy. She is dancing. Her arms held out behind her, fingers laced she spins around and is at ease, completely relaxed, unaware she has my audience. I see a smile of complete abandon on her face. She…

…is beautiful.

Why dance at night?

He speaks, I don't catch the words; a muttered comment. He may even be speaking to himself, his words are not for her, or me.

There is movement above me, on the stairs.

He was sat there, watching. Watching her dance.

Right above me. I cower back.

She was dancing not for herself, but for him.

She was showing her happiness to him.

What have I stumbled upon? I shouldn't be here. They think they are alone, if they knew there was anyone here they would not be this way.

The movement becomes sudden, a darting arrow of white and black and held out arms. He comes quickly down the stairs and is against her. Fast and eager his arms go around her and he holds her to him. He puts his head down on her shoulder and I imagine her smell filling his nostrils and taking away his ability to think.

Her face. Eyes wide, startled, a quick burst of surprise.

Replaced by joy, by happiness. I see all this in moments, in a time far shorter than it takes me to recount.

- - - - - -

Arima pulls away from her, for a moment they look at each other.

Then.

I see it begin to happen. He moves his head down again, towards her.

She lifts her face to him, her eyes begin to close.

They are almost touching…

A crash of thunder tears at my nerves and I jump and squeak in surprise and sudden fear. I'm fortunate. The roar of the storm drowned out my noise. I push back under the stair in panic of being discovered.

They have parted, the surprise caught them too.

"Was that. The storm?"

"Yes."

He pulls away and suddenly looks embarrassed. I hear faint mutterings of apology. He is awkward and says something about going to cool his head.

He will see me!

Here under the stairs, he'll come past and see me.

In a boiling bile of panic I dart away down the corridor and push open the first door I find. I'm in a washroom. I move to the cubicles and duck in, closing the door.

I quiver in panic.

If I'm found, I'm dead. I'll die of embarrassment.

The door speaks with a squeal of hinge. A tap turns on. Water splashes.

He's here!

He came in!

This must be…

A boys room.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.

I came into a boy's washroom!

My worst nightmare.

I scoot up on top of the toilet seat and squat where my feet can't be seen. Just like in cop movies. Never thought I'd do it for real. I lean forward, pressing both outstretched arms, palms flat to the door. I can't lock it. I don't dare. The catch would make a sound and he might see the little red marker. I stare at the cubicle door, sweat running under my arms and at my crotch, willing him to go.

He speaks aloud. To himself.

"What have I done?"

"I've done something dirty."

"Wh…What have I done?"

"What'll I do? How am I supposed to face Miyazawa? Oh, what'll I do?"

I hear even the drip of each droplet, I close my eyes and imagine each one dropping from his nose, his chin. Arms straight down, braced on the lip of the wash basin. Head down.

_What did he do?_

_Did I miss something?_

_Did he… touch her…?_

…_in a wrong place?_

After a moment the door talks again, its unimaginative conversation, the only line it knows.

A bit like me really.

The soft school slippers are useful to move silently but I didn't hear him leave.

I wait, in a suspense of fear, sweat and body odour. I suddenly stink. I need a bath.

Which is good, because I have a lot of thinking to do.

Hardly daring to breathe I step down and inch the door open.

I peer out.

The wash room is empty.

I move to the door, shaking and damp. I listen. Nothing.

If he comes back in now…

I pull it open and look out. Near the stairs where they were it's empty.

Again I listen. Silence.

I move to the stairs and duck under. My bag is there.

I left it!

Did he see it?

My heart is still pounding.

I creep to the corner of the corridor and look around. Have they gone?

No. They are a short way down.

And?

What?

They are cleaning the floor.

What is going on? There is a bucket on its side, Miyazawa is sopping wet and both are on their knees wiping up water.

Are they practising for scenes of domestic married bliss?

What did I miss?

Then she speaks.

"You know I thought of something more I wanted to say."

"What?"

"About me not wanting to depend on anyone else beside you."

"Oh, yeah."

"Arima, you can depend on me too. I was wondering if hiding my true self and putting up an image all through middle school was a waste. But it might not be. Maybe I can think of it this way. Because I've put in that effort all this time I might have the strength to support you. Then the me up through middle school won't go to waste. You don't have to push yourself. It's exhausting to always have to stand by yourself. Because you want someone to support you."

I am at the corner, my hand is over my open mouth, my open soul.

"_putting up an image". _

That was what I had seen, in class earlier in the year. A girl wearing a mask. A loner who somehow belonged to all the groups. _Now_ I understood.

Evidently what she said had a deep significance for him. Even though they were some yards down the corridor and the light was bad, I could see his face. His expression.

He stands up. She does too.

And then I knew what was going to happen. His sudden hurried amateur hug of earlier had frightened him. And he thought he had frightened her. But her words just now, told him she wasn't afraid. They told him she was the opposite. She was strong, and so now he came to her again.

And this time what I saw made tears come in my eyes.

It was wonderful, like... like a flower blooming.

Then, for a second, just one second, one minute, one year, one lifetime, they press together, arms clinging, eyes closed.

I have never witnessed a hug.

A proper, loving hug.

Oh, sure, on TV, in movies, and quick sharp polite hugs at railway stations, airports, at Christmas.

But not like this, in front of me. They hug each other, hug for each other. They hug only for me. I am watching. This is for me. I am meant to see this. This is a lesson for me but as yet my understanding is limited. I am seeing this perfect, pure, childlike hug for a purpose. Something wishes to teach me. So, I try to learn.

His face I cannot see, he is breathing her shoulder into him, drawing her body in through his mouth and nose.

She must smell like paradise. How I envy him.

My fingertips tingle. My toes are tickling. Something in my middle glows. Something in my chest is swelling, changing. Why am I feeling like this now? This ugly feeling of lust? Why does heat come now?

I see her face, eyes closed, turned to one side. The smile she wore while dancing is still there, it has become a smile of utter peace.

And I want that.

This is the lesson I am here to learn. Love and lust are not the ends of the journey. Peace is the end of the journey, total trust, complete calm. That is the purpose of knowing someone well. You don't need love. You certainly don't need lust.

Friendship.

It's friendship, true and honest and deep and trusting.

Finding that would make me whole.

Izawa, I do not need to know you in a certain way.

I just need to know you.

And have you know me.

Like _I_ know me.

Be happy with me.

Trust me.

But then...

...I would have to tell you...

...everything.

- - - - - -

But it wasn't over yet.

My spying, my rude eavesdropping.

There was more.

I should have seen it coming and retreated and left this private moment to them.

But something held me in place, gripped me and kept me there.

The hug ended, their arms relaxed, hers dropped to her sides. He put his hands on her shoulders.

Then…

…it was inevitable wasn't it?

His head came down, I saw his eyes close. She tilted hers back. I could imagine her white throat exposed. I have watched it in so many movies and in too many summer parks, a taller man kissing a shorter girl, how she tilts her head and exposes herself.

Am I odd to notice such things?

Every time I see it there is one word which darts into my mind.

_Submissive._

A girl like that, overshadowed by a taller man. She looks so…

…vulnerable, so open, so…

…female.

So womanly.

_So submissive._

The heat at my middle is back. My hand is even reaching for it before I realize and pull back.

Their faces touch.

I turn away.

I cannot stay for this, it isn't right.

I grab my bag and in the silence of my slippers, retreat.

- - - oOo - - -

I never did get to 1-A. I never did get my umbrella.

Outside it is raining, although the worst has passed.

It is still enough to soak me right through during the forty five minute walk.

But then, I was going to have a bath anyway.

- - - oOo - - -

I sit in the hot water, head back, eyes closed.

I try to relax but what I have seen goes round and around in me, over and over.

I have just witnessed the most beautiful thing in my life.

How I envy them. How I envy him.

_What must she feel like? How warm? How soft?_

_What is her taste?_

_Why do I see such submission in a girl?_

_Is it because…?_

_I want to submit?_

My brother made me. When he did what he did. To me. He made me keep still. He made me unbutton my shirt. He said he'd tell dad how naughty I'd been if I said anything. So he…

Made me…

_Why?_

_Does this come back to me now?_

And haunts and digs and bites and aches at me.

_FUCK OFF!_

_GO AWAY!_

_I HATE YOU FOR IT!_

_LEAVE ME ALONE!_

_YOU BASTARD._

_YOU SICK TWISTER FUCKER._

_YOU SCREWED ME UP._

_**No.**_

Answers the small voice I hate. That small sickly-sweet voice.

_**No, you screwed yourself up.**_

_**Didn't you Saka? You naughty, dirty little girl.**_

_**You like to submit don't you?**_

_**You WANT to.**_

I close my eyes. In my imagination he isn't there and I speak to her. We share my umbrella, we walk home and she is warm and smells better than I even imagined. It is too far to go to her house so we come here. We are both sopping wet, so we undress. Her bra catch is caught so with shaking fingers I undo it. And there is only one bath so we share it.

And her fingers are on me.

And her mouth…

And her taste is even better than I could hope.

And as my mind goes and my own fingers send me, her name comes groaning from my lips.

She isn't the girl I saw with Arima, she is someone else. A little taller, she has rainbow black hair, dark distant eyes and she hardly ever smiles.

"Izawa…"

My brother is right.

I am screwed up. I have screwed myself up.

**_Told you so._**

- - - oOo - - -

_Izawa. I am sorry. Forgive me. I am filthy. Please don't see inside my head._

- - - oOo - - -

_17 – 21 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifteen and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	16. Asabaness Attack!

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixteen – Asaba-ness Attack!**

I sat next to him (much closer than was necessary) and laughed when he did, taking my cue from his eyes and his gestures. I was so small next to him. I was like a teddy bear and when I laughed at his silly antics he would put a hand in my hair and tousle it, like you would with a cuddly toy.

I liked that.

No, that's a lie. I _made_ myself like it.

It was a conscious act of willpower to be enjoying this.

Well, at first it was.

My confession is that later, in fact not very much later at all, I began to _really_ like it.

That was both a relief in one way, a huge relief.

(knowing you're maybe not _completely_ a twisted pervy freak helps your stress levels no-end).

And it was a distraction; it took my mind off the thing I had consciously decided I didn't want. No, sorry I _did_ want but I _shouldn't_. And certainly didn't want to think about.

I looked up again at Asaba and Arima doing simply odd stuff with each other. On his own Arima was a gentleman, the perfect scholar. Very quiet. Even when I got to know her well, later on, I sometimes wondered exactly what Miyazawa saw in him, he was just so _boring_ some days. _So_ quiet. I mean, sure the strong silent type can be appealing but the deaf mute never struck me as sexy at all. But when Asaba was with him… well, nutters, the pair of them. Play fighting or whatever it was (I could never be sure with the playboy), Arima protesting at the taller boy's strange twisted thinking and Miyazawa looking between him and me, and suppressing both giggles and embarrassment.

"Come _on_, you two," I called loudly, putting a hand on Asaba's knee and trying to pull him away, "pack all that yaoi stuff in, I'm trying to eat my lunch here."

The two boys came apart and sat back on the grass laughing. Asaba looked at me, choking back the last of the chuckles. He looked down at my hand.

It was still on his knee.

I snatched it away.

"And anyway," he smirked, in that daft dreamy put-on lover-boy voice he does, "my beautiful sexy Ryusaki, aren't girls supposed to secretly like boy-boy stuff? Hm?"

I blushed.

"Oh, please, you're gross."

"Asapin, you're odd. Wherever do you get some of that warped stuff form?"

She said, but Miyazawa was still laughing.

- - - oOo - - -

I have decided that a life of being someone's shadow is a life I cannot bear to live.

I want her every moment of every day.

I'm dying.

This can't go on.

I don't have the courage to tell her.

Please, don't get on your high horse and blame me. I know I'm weak and pathetic.

You don't need to tell me.

And if I can't have her I need to be doing something to take me away from those thoughts.

Running helps to a degree. I'm certainly fitter now than I've ever been. And swimming helps too, but Eguchi is in the swimming club and Eguchi is a reminder.

And Eguchi – well, Eguchi may be another problem. When we swim together we get showered and dressed together.

And, yes, you guessed it. I have caught her looking. Just once or twice but, you know me, I think I'm pretty good at spotting the signs.

So I'm avoiding swimming with her now too.

And that hurts me because I genuinely like her, I really do. She's fun, easy to talk to and I get chatty around her.

Unlike Izawa. I just clam up around her, and she's about as talkative as I.

So, I need to be further from Izawa than that.

Which is why, completely stupid as it may seem, I began to think of getting involved with someone else, anyone else in fact. Heck, I'm not fussy. As long as they don't wear a skirt.

I just need a distraction.

Sad aren't I?

I sound like some cheap hussy.

How does a person get to thinking this way?

When death by slow tortured heart is the only alternative, that's when.

Please, again, keep your judgements to yourself, I don't need them. I've made it plain I'm not proud and if you've never had these kinds of thoughts about someone the same sex as you then you have no idea how confusing it is.

How damn plain frightening.

Look, I'm scared, alright?

Girls fall in love with boys, don't they?

They always have!

They have since we came out of trees and stopped dragging our knuckles. Well, most of us stopped dragging them.

Yes, I'm not stupid, I'm not a child and I know girls-loving-girls is well, you know. _Known about. _It has a proper name and everything. Been happening for centuries.

But that knowledge does not help when you didn't know you were like that and suddenly you wake up one day aged fifteen and a half and find you've fallen in love with another girl.

When you sit in your bath and imagine that your fingers are hers.

When you look at her changing for PE and can't tear your eyes away.

After a while it gets to be more than I can bear.

Because I know it's wrong.

Okay, you may not think so. You may be the whoriest, most outrageous, most boiler-suited, shaven headed, butchest lesbian who's ever lived, completely at ease with your sexuality and picking up a couple of girls a night.

Well, I'm happy for you, you're a very lucky woman.

Me? I just feel like I'm completely fucked up.

And I hate it.

So just give your lectures a rest.

I'm through with looking at this the logical way. I've been trying to do that the last few weeks of bath times.

So, really this can't go on.

- - - oOo - - -

Which is why possibly the shyest person in the school went boy hunting.

Pretty much any boy would do, I would only be using him anyway, all I needed was for him not to know my motives.

And company, friendship, affection, a distraction from the nightmares.

So now you know.

Now you know why I'm sat here, and it's a hot July lunchtime, and I'm beyond the sports pitches where the paths run around a clump of bushes and I'm sat with Miyazawa, Arima and Asaba and pretending to enjoy their company.

Well, hm, I _was_ pretending. Very soon it gets infectious. Very soon the laughter stops being forced. Very soon the way his cheeky eyes glitter no longer seems _quite_ so tacky.

- - - oOo - - -

I haven't exactly been avoiding Miyazawa.

It's just, well… when she and Arima began to get closer I played my tactical card and chose to withdraw a little. It seemed only polite to not be in their hair when they clearly wanted to be in each others.

Plus, hm, I was kind of distracted with my own problems too.

And then along comes this outrageous John Lennon hippie wannabe baka clown. The village idiot. The court jester.

I just do not get Asaba at all. He's low ranked in the school, about as low as me (I've been improving, maybe something about being traumatized by unrequited love inspires me to work harder). And yet while I do my best _he_ doesn't seem to study at all. He just lies on the beach or hangs out in bars and clubs and has this thing of being a playboy with a loose attitude and even looser morals.

I've heard boys talking about him.

Lots of them think he's gay.

He acts like one, always tanned and dressing strangely and wearing jewellery and posing about with his shirt half undone.

A few weeks after school began he was seen talking to Arima and looking pretty chummy with him but then he got into a fight with Miyazawa.

This insanity lasted about a week. I have a ruined blouse as proof, stained with ramen noodles that he threw at her and missed.

I spoke to her about it. She wasn't able to articulate too well how she felt because he made her _soooo_ angry, but he thought she wasn't good enough for Arima. And of course she then thought _he_ wasn't good enough to think _she_ wasn't good enough and it all got very messy. A little bit like this paragraph.

Or my blouse.

But, in the same way that her feud with Arima back in May suddenly ended, her one with Asaba suddenly ended too. One day they would be like two hissing tom cats, and the following week I was walking across the quad and there, sat on a wall under the trees were all three of them in a row, laughing. She was in the middle and Asaba was actually patting her on the head, like a puppy.

My curiosity which is peaked a lot when Miyazawa's behaviour is concerned, was peaked again. Peaky peaked. Extreme peakiness. We're talking Mount Fuji easily. At once.

First, why was Miyazawa within fifty feet of him but she hadn't yet been arrested for murder and second, how come _he_ was touching _her_ and Arima wasn't helping her chop him up and carry the still warm chunks to the nearest acid bath?

It was already becoming known that Arima didn't like other boys getting close to her. Unless they wanted to experience life as a quadriplegic. Heck, he even got suspicious of other girls sometimes.

Which is why I went over.

"Hi."

"Ryusaki! Hello! Haven't seen you for ages. How are you?"

"Miyazawa, I'm fine. This looks like a party. Ohayo Arima-kun."

"Hey Ryusaki-san."

Wow, he answered me…

Talkative today. Man in a good mood. I became bolder.

"Um, you know, please drop the formalities. We know each other now, yes?"

"Alright, Ryusaki, I will. Arigato. And you too."

And he smiled, just a little. I've hardly ever seen him smile. You know, when he does, when he holds his face down and looks up a little through that heavy fringe of black hair, he's really cute, it makes him look younger. He baffles me sometimes, but at other times I can definitely see what she sees in him.

"Ryusaki, do you know Asaba? He's in 1-F."

"I think we met, didn't we?"

"How could I forget? Our one and only meeting. In the corridor, so many weeks ago. Like a shy little flower you looked at me and the purity in you made you blush so prettily."

He slid off the wall and smoothly came around next to me. My eyes were wide. I'd heard the stories but seeing him in action was. Well. It was like an illness, debilitating. You couldn't do anything; it was like having the flu. You could only lie there and let the waves of trauma wash over you. You couldn't help but be amazed that a guy could have the balls to act like that. He was just, weird. His voice was all creamy and sensual, he drooled with his hands, his long languid fingers making patterns in the air, his way-too-pale hair flicking like a pony would swish its tail.

There was only one word to describe Asaba.

Perverted.

He just reeked of sensual nonsense, of playboy guile and languorous charm. But he just piled it on so thickly. It was so transparently an act but he just kept it up and wore your defences down.

I'm telling you, if you took a random sample of ten thousand people you could not find two more extreme opposites as Asaba and Arima. And here they were, friends. They say opposites attract, well these two were the living proof.

He would even touch you, and that really bugged me. Not in a nasty way, but that he would just have the sheer nerve to invade someone's personal space. And right away, not after he'd met you three or four times, but at once, as though he'd known you years.

He slid around behind me and placed a hand on my right shoulder and brought his face down very close to my left side. His voice became treacly and gentle.

"That blush – ah! – like the sweetness of an angel, like the beautiful bloom of the softest sakura blossom, like tender marshmallow, like the cuteness of a lamb… I _love_ seeing you blush… oh, Ryusaki-chan, blush for me again, take me to heaven…!"

Yeah, right, you get the picture. But the thing is, with him so close and being so well – rude, and with his breath on my ear. I did. I blushed. I went bright red.

He bounced away, spun around and clapped his hands melodramatically together under his chin.

"Ah, you pretty little thing, I have found at last my true love!"

"That would be since you found Ishikawa Ume at ten o'clock this morning?"

Miyazawa had this way with words.

"I live for the _now_ of having beauty all around me..."

"You live that others may suffer."

"I am here for the _moment..._"

"You are here to piss me off," her tongue could cut like a razor, "Look at Ryusaki, you are so embarrassing her. Stop it!"

"Asaba, you're a freak. Pack it in," Arima helped out.

I looked up from my shoes.

"No, it's all right. I think he's quite sweet."

"You see?" the looney gushed, "she loves me! She knows true devotion when she sees it."

Arms folded, head turned aside, Miyazawa made one of _those _faces, jaw set in a grimace, brows knitted and furrowed, eyes blazing fire.

"She knows true bullshit, more like…"

- - - oOo - - -

_16 – 17 & 21 – 22 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Sixteen and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	17. The Maryland Project

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventeen – The Maryland Project**

_Mary had a little lamb its fleece was white as snow;  
And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.  
It followed her to school one day, which was against the rule;  
It made the children laugh and play, to see a lamb at school.  
And so the teacher turned it out, but still it lingered near,  
And waited patiently about, till Mary did appear.  
"Why does the lamb love Mary so?" the eager children cry;  
"Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know" the teacher did reply._

- Traditional English nursery rhyme, 1700s

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Given the fighting that had been going on between Miyazawa and Asaba I expect you're puzzled by the cute touchy-feely picnic scene in the last chapter?

How they soon became friends and Arima accepted his presence around her?

I'm not surprised.

It blew me away too. She's a damn puzzling woman. I'd be minding my own business by the drinks machines, Asaba would walk up and buy an iced tea and from out of nowhere she would dive in, grab his cup out of the dispenser and down it in one right in front of him. Hurl the empty at him and run off cackling.

I mean, is this normal? I've heard of hormonal imbalance at our age but never sanity imbalance.

Our _Myzwa_ must have some odd aura that just attracts chaos and strangeness. Her school life is hardly ever simple and straightforward. I wonder what it's like in her home? Are her parents mental too? Has she any brothers or sisters? Any resident circus acts maybe? A clown school?

Instead of sitting down to curry and miso for dinner do they all run around in bright red suits hurling custard pies at each other? You know, _nothing_ would surprise me.

We have a Pale Arima and a Dark. We seem to have a mad Miyazawa and totally unhinged one.

So, a week or so back, when the violence ended, when the smears of thrown ramen and herbal tea had been wiped up, after I'd bought a new blouse and the twitching traumatized students had been rehabilitated, after one crazy week and peace had returned to the corridors at Hokuei, I just had to ask.

"Miyazawa, what the hell's going on?"

"Hm? Oh, hi Ryusaki. What?"

A study period. Her desk by the window. As far away from _hers_ as I could get and not raise suspicion in the homeroom.

"Uh, gomen, this is none of my business, but…"

Shyness, still. Even around people I knew well. _Baka._

She raised an eyebrow, it was a welcoming gesture. She said nothing at all. Some days she could be very sweet, open-hearted and quiet. Other days, well, you know about the _other days_.

Maybe the poor cow has her PMT setting jammed in the "on" position?

Rumours were going round. Kawashima-sensei had been overheard asking about bomb shelters and organising evacuation drills in preparation for the next strike.

That theory scientists have about the dinosaurs being wiped out by a meteorite? They're wrong. They met mass extinction because one of them looked at Miyazawa the wrong way.

There's a fire alarm box outside 1-A's homeroom. "_In case of fire, break glass_." the label says. Some wit has taken a marker pen to it, replacing the word "fire" with "Miyazawa".

"Can I ask about Asaba? You know, all that trouble?"

"Oh, yes. That. That's all sorted out."

"I'm dying to know - if you don't mind - what happened?"

She leaned back and stretched, arms straight up, fingers interlaced. She lay her pen on the desk and gave me a grin.

"Well, as it's _you_."

(That made me feel nice. Was I special then? Yayness!)

"_Are you sitting comfortably?" _her eyes said_, "then I'll begin."_

"I saw him talking with Arima a few times and decided I'd get to know him. I thought _if he's friendly with Arima I should make the effort to be friendly with him too._ But he totally cut me dead. He said I was nothing special and wondered what Arima saw in me. And boy did _that_ piss me off. _No-one_ treats me like that. You know? He hated me because I was in his way. He wanted to get close to Arima so those two good looking guys would attract all the girls. Asaba wants all the girls to be around him. He calls them his flock of lambs. He called it his Maryland Project. Sheesh, what a jerk. He was so _stupid_. He completely misjudged me."

(that maniacal axe-wielding glint flashed in her eyes. I withdrew my arms from the immediate threat zone. I'm rather attached to my hands and want to remain so).

"He thought I was a goody goody model student who would run away crying as soon as he picked a fight, but he had no idea how strongly I feel for Arima."

"How strongly do you feel?"

_Oops. How did that slip out? Careful girl. _

"But I fought back and surprised Asaba. He completely misjudged Arima, too. He's beautiful yes, and all the girls want to be near him but he doesn't want that at all. Asaba just couldn't see that, he couldn't see how someone so attractive would want no girl-attention at all. But Arima is like that. He's a very private person. Then one day Arima fought him in the corridor. I think he even hit him. He told Asaba to back off, that no-one got away with acting like he had to me."

She clasped her hands under her chin and made a squee-y giggly gesture. Eyes up to heaven.

Heck, she's like a kid sometimes. Acting her shoe size instead of… well, you know. It's _embarrassing_.

"He's like a knight in armour sometimes, my kendo swordsman."

Her eyes went all dreamy, I was losing her.

"And Asaba?"

"Oh, hm. Asaba asked Arima why he loved me. He said '_because_ _she stays with me through everything even though she has nothing to gain_'. After that Asaba gave up his Maryland Project and apologised to me and we became friends."

"Just like that? Bit of a reed blown by the wind isn't he?"

"But he still chases the girls."

"Oh."

Ideas. Half formed and devious…

"Oh, yes, he's worse than ever now I think. Now that he knows he doesn't have to share any with Arima."

"And Arima is friends with him too?"

"Hm," (vigorous nodding), "It all worked out really well. He's very funny, too. Outrageous behaviour."

_You must attract them, moths to flames._

"You've not met him then?"

"No."

"I'll introduce you next time you're passing. He's weird."

_He's__ weird? This I gotta see._

"How so?"

"You'll see…"

And her face became a big big smile. Her Big Happy Kitten Smile, I call it. Mouth an upturned line, eyes two down-turned ones. She must inspire every manga artist within half a mile when she does that.

"And… uh. How strongly do you feel?"

"Oh, I don't mind him at all, within limits."

"No, no. About Arima? You said Asaba had no idea how strongly you felt for him."

"Oh."

The Big Kitten got Bigger. And More Kitteny. She stood up, packed her books. She reached out one finger and patted the end of my nose.

"One day, when we know each other better. I'll tell you."

I watched the Big Kitten go.

As I turned back I saw her.

Izawa.

She was watching me.

Her eyes were cold, suspicious. I shivered. Some days she'd have a horrible look in those eyes.

Know what I mean?

If looks could kill…

- - - oOo - - -

_23 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Seventeen and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	18. Storm Coming

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Eighteen – Storm Coming**

_The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound  
And a wave broke over the railing  
And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,  
'T was the witch of November come stealing. _

_The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait  
When the gales of November came slashing.  
When afternoon came it was freezing rain  
In the face of a hurricane West Wind. _

_- Gordon Lightfoot, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald _

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

A few moments later. Back at my desk. Looking at my Classical Japanese textbook.

_Now there's a complete waste of time, what use is that unless I'm going to be a historian or a Kabuki artist? There are several subjects I hate. Classical Japanese comes near the top of the pile. Not only is it bloody hard. It's bloody pointless too._

A shadow passed between me and the window. A pale blue pleated school skirt pressed against the side of my desk. I looked at the material, the way it was shaped by the curving muscles of the bottom beneath it, the way the cloth clung and hung. My pencil case was touching the skirt. I moved my left hand and drew it back.

I didn't look up.

I didn't need to.

I knew whose bottom this was. I could smell her. She wears a distinctive perfume. It's French. Called Arpegè. By Lanvin. It's very traditional, first created in 1927 and brought back onto the market a couple of years ago. I know this because I went to Ginza one day and actually looked for it, trying various stores. I bought a small bottle just so I could have the scent of her in my bathroom.

And on my pillow.

You see? You see how twisted I have become? How desperate my fantasies are?

It's a beautiful scent, quite distinctive. And on her…

Her voice. A dark silky tone, a little masculine, one of the deepest girl-voices I know.

I stared at my pencil case.

"You need to be careful."

I made no answer.

"Choose your friends carefully."

I looked a little to my left. I could see her legs. Her usual pose. Arms lightly folded below her chest, legs out straight, ankles crossed. Blocking the aisle between my desk and the one to my left. So no-one would get past. I'm on the end column of desks. To my right is the wall. So now no-one can come past and disturb our little chat.

I've seen this style before many times in middle school. It's a typical bullies set-up. Close off the way past so no-one will interrupt you while you deal with your victim.

I swallow. My throat is dry.

Despite the time of year she still wears the long thigh-length black winter uniform socks. Some girls wore them to the knee, some just above. Some others again pulled them right up like stockings. She did, almost to her skirt, just a couple of inches of pale thigh visible between skirt and stocking. I looked at that skin. Just there. Where in my dreams my fingers, my lips have been.

A hundred touches. A hundred kisses.

It was like a uniform they wore, these four girls, despite the summer and the white short socks everyone else wore, Izawa, Eguchi, Fushida and Miyagi stayed in the black winter stockings. No-one else. Just these four. It made them stand out. Black. It was a sinister colour. Hitler's SS wore black. Darth Vader wore black. The colour of night, of evil, of thugs in alleyways.

I'm sure that wasn't their intention but if you wore them you belonged. If you didn't, you didn't.

And I didn't.

I'd already noticed this and wondered if anyone in Izawa's gang would mention it.

"You're pretty close to her aren't you?"

I cleared my throat. This was my very first conversation with her. I had hoped it would be different. I had had a hundred, a thousand conversations with her.

Round and round inside my head.

"_Ryusaki, can you help me with this homework."_

_So I lean close to her and my hair brushes against her face._

"_Ryusaki, what perfume is that? May I?"_

_And her face comes close to my neck…_

_Again, changing after PE:_

"_Hey, I can't get this damn thing closed. Help me would you?"_

_And trembling. My aching fingers close her bra catch. It's a front fastening and my fingers slip, the soft garment comes undone. I stare "Gomen" I stutter, enthralled. My mind wanders…_

A thousand fantasy conversations.

But sadly, the real one, the first one, is nothing like them.

Isn't that always the way?

"Who do you mean?"

"Don't play games with me, Ryusaki. You know perfectly well."

"I… Uh…"

"Well?"

"Yes."

"I have some advice for you," she unfolds her arms, turns and bends down. Now her face is close, almost as close as in my fantasies. But this time… "there's a storm coming, Sakana. People are going to get caught in it. You can share my umbrella if you like. Plenty of room with me. But, you know… don't share hers. That would be a big mistake."

"Uh…I..?"

"You don't understand? Try to. A time to choose is coming. Me. Or her."

And she came very close and her lips touched my hair, a brief kiss.

"I like you Sakana. Don't disappoint me. There's a good girl."

And she was gone.

I stared at my pencil case, gripping it, my knuckles white.

- - - oOo - - -

What?

What the _hell_ was that?

A kiss?

And yet…

It frightened me.

Her voice. Did she just threaten me? Was I just bullied?

I was. It had happened before. I know bullying when I see it. Oh, yes.

Before, in middle school, I would sweat with fear, I would become nauseous, I would run to the washroom and puke. A teacher would take me home.

But this time…

I ran again. I couldn't stand to be there in the same room with her.

My mind was reeling.

I ran out, books scattered. Down the corridor, down one flight of stairs, legs pumping, heart pounding. Faces flashed past. The round O's of mouths and eyes.

I crashed into the washroom and dived into a cubicle, slamming and locking the door.

I turned and leaned my back against it, gasping for breath.

I had been bullied.

But this time… unlike all the other times…

I had…

…enjoyed it. Because _she_ did it.

The Darth Vader complex they call it. Women fall for him even though he's evil and twisted. But they fall for him because he's powerful. He dominates. His sexiness comes out _because_ he's the Bad Guy. And strong.

Is that what had drawn me to her in the first place? That long black hair, that brooding demeanour, that moody expression? Those dark eyes and the dark spirits in them? That hardness? That masculine voice? That…

…_maleness…_

My mind reeled. I don't understand this. I fear men.

I hate them.

_I hate you brother. Because of what you did._

_I hate all of you, you're disgusting!_

_With your disgusting… __things_

_**You know, Saka, we're not all bad. Not all of us. Some of us maybe.**_

_**But then.**_

_**You like that.**_

_**Don't you?**_

_FUCK OFF_

_**Don't you?**_

_FUCK OFF OUT OF MY FACE!_

Talking in the washroom outside stops. I'd shouted aloud. I'd punched the wall.

_Oh shit._

I sit on the seat, head in hands. I'm close to vomiting.

A knock on the door.

"Hello? Hello? Are you alright in there?"

"Yeah, fine. Thanks. Just boy trouble."

"Oh. Okay then."

- - - oOo - - -

So.

(head still in hands, a little later, a little calmer, no vomiting yet)

If I'm attracted to her.

And she's dark and a little masculine…

And brooding…

And she dominates me.

And I like that…

Then?

What the hell does that make me?

And she used my given name. A little familiar with me, no? The very first time she's had a conversation with me?

And yet.

The sound of her speaking my name.

"_I like you Sakana…"_

It made me feel.

_Hot._

She makes me feel.

_Ready._

I just… I'm just…

…scared.

Of these feelings.

_I disagree with you Maho. There isn't a storm coming._

_It's already here._

_It's been here for weeks._

- - - oOo - - -

_23 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Eighteen and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	19. Asaba Hideaki's Civic Duty

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Nineteen – Asaba Hideaki's Civic Duty **

I was useless for two days. I just couldn't get a handle on these feelings. I thought I'd known what I wanted. I want…

Love.

Companionship.

Friendship.

A soul-mate.

Warm arms to hold me.

A soft voice to calm me.

A personality to grow close to.

A person to know.

And be known by.

But now…

…suddenly this odd feeling of…

I don't know what it is.

_Submission? _

Such a nasty word, a horrible word.

It reminded me of the past.

_**Oh, yes, Saka. You like that don't you? **_

I shut it out, tried to shut it all away.

- - - oOo - - -

After school the next day I skipped swimming. I wasn't in the mood, alright? So bite me. I saw Asaba.

"Yo, Ryusaki!"

He was heading home. He didn't attend any after school clubs.

"I belong to the nightclubs."

Was his smiling answer.

"We meet at Club Yellow in Nishi-Azabu. Know it?"

I'd heard of it, but never been.

"You have to be 20 to get in there!"

He touched his forefinger to the side of his nose.

"Not if you know certain people. Stick with Hideaki and I'll be your passport to pleasure."

I rolled my eyes, come on, lay off it Asaba.

"No, seriously, I'll take you. Do you dance, my delicious siren?"

I'd never danced.

"What, a lady as beautiful as you and you've never even danced? It's a crime. I'll have to put a stop to it, it's my civic duty to put an end to such gross abuses of common sense."

"Asaba?"

"Yes my pretty?"

"Shut up."

"Hm, such sweet words of love. You know it's true: that you love the one you hate."

"I don't hate you. I just want you to shut up."

"Mm, you love me then. You are so forward, so…"

And on it went, on and on, chipping away at me. But he _was_ funny. And he helped. He made me smile. He made me forget about that kiss, those two inches of soft pale leg, that perfume, those threats and my hot response to them.

We said goodbye at the station. He went by train. I walked.

As his train pulled out he blew me a kiss through the window.

_Baka. _

That night I dug out some CDs and turned the music up. I tried to dance but I wasn't very good. I felt clumsy, left footed and self-conscious.

I turned on the TV, found a music show and watched the dancers.

I tried to copy their moves.

Huh. It was embarrassing.

I thought more about going to a club.

But could I trust Asaba?

He was a boy.

And I knew what boys wanted.

It was all they wanted. Just one damn thing.

If I said yes to going out dancing, would he take that as a yes to other things?

And if he should?

And if I should then say no?

Would he accept my no?

I had said no to my brother.

He hadn't accepted it.

He'd carried on. And done.

That horrible thing.

_You bastard. How I hate you. How you've ruined my life. If I ever see you again I'll kill you. You sick… _

And so, once again, around and around in my head. The old conversations. The same arguments within myself. The same self-loathing and guilt and pain and screaming.

All I want.

Is kindness. And a friend. And love.

All I want is to hug somebody.

And to be hugged.

It's not much to ask, is it?

But can I trust any boy ever again?

Can I trust Asaba?

I want to.

God how I want to.

Chip, chip, chip. He chips away at me.

My resolve is reducing under the torrent of stupid, corny jokes. The daft fake Casanova nonsense.

But you know? He is kind of cute. Underneath all that bravado and gushing silliness I wonder what he's _really_ like.

- - - oOo - - -

_23 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Nineteen, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	20. The Day The Class Stood Still

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty – The Day The Class Stood Still **

Izawa and her friends didn't invite me into their plans, so when it happened I was unaware.

And more than a little shocked.

Lunch the next day. All the 1-A and 1-B girls gathered in the second floor home economics room to eat.

This would be? When? Second week of July? The first semester was almost over. Exams all done (huh, another time I'll let you know how I did _-smiley-_). Summer break was almost here and people were starting to relax.

The usual chatter, the usual backbiting, the usual rumours, which boy had been seen where with which girl, jokes, talk of TV shows, nothing new. Just your average fifteen and sixteen year old girl talk going round the room.

I was with Izawa and Eguchi and the other two near the door. Four pairs of black stockings, one pair of white socks. With them but not with them. Oh, the symbolism of it all!

_Baka._ At least I can look back and laugh at it now.

You know, I can't even remember what we were talking about.

Then the conversation of the main group of girls got around to Miyazawa and how nice she was, how helpful, how studious.

"Arima-kun and Asaba-kun get along well, don't you think?"

"Miyazawa-san is so lucky to be friends with those two."

"Well sure, when she's all so perfect."

"Pretty, nice, and she's not proud at all of being smart."

"And she'll help us with work really nicely."

("Now, I think," Izawa said under her breath; the other three nodded)

"Guess there are great people like that in this world."

Izawa spoke.

"You think so?"

I frowned. Everyone went silent.

"Maho?" someone asked.

Izawa crossed her ankles, folded her arms, leaned on a desk. I had come to know this as her battle posture. When things got serious, she always took up this pose. Months later, so many months later I can still see it in my mind. See her in my heart. I love it still. But that day… well, what a day that would be.

"Is Miyazawa really such a great person like you all think? Maybe you're all being tricked."

"What?"

"What're you talking about, Maho?"

"I've always thought that she was kind of fishy…"

She continued, cool, plotting, attacking. Whether this was a mistake or a shrewd move I couldn't say, but I had to admit, she was impressive. She never raised her voice, never even moved, never broke eye contact with the person speaking. This was a woman who knew she was good, knew she held authority. I still hardly knew her, but today, I stood back and watched. Right or wrong, there was no denying it. She was awesome. Beautiful. Dangerous. I was spellbound. Inside me, once again, something stirred.

"…She just doesn't make any mistake in anything she does. Maybe she's just got a really good outward image."

"What?"

"You think so?"

Maho again:

"Because look, her attitude's changed recently. Maybe her true colours are starting to show."

"Huh?"

"Really?"

"But you know, don't you think she really is different than before?"

"Oh, you thought so too?"

"Actually, I'd thought so too!"

"No way, I did too!"

"But then what… everyone thought so?"

Maho gave them time to grow their doubts, then she went on. The knife went in.

"Women like that exist, you know? They act like good people, captivate people, and live a smooth life. People like that are especially good at catching men. Boys are weak when it comes to girls like her. Looking at how she's got Arima and Asaba, I get the feeling that she chooses well, you know?"

I watched the room, the reaction came swiftly. I felt like I was a part of this now. This wrongness. Assassinating a girl's character like this could not be right, or fair. I knew. I knew Arima had loved her first, she had captured his heart, not he hers. She had done nothing to attract him, in fact all the time he had secretly loved her she had despised him, hated him for being a better student. And Asaba – that friendship was borne out of mutual respect. What the hell was Maho doing?

The main group of girls now chewed this information over. And over.

"If… that's true, I can't be satisfied with that."

"There were lots of girls who liked Arima and Asaba."

"If that's true, it's unforgivable."

"That's right."

"I know lots of girls who confessed their feelings and got turned down."

"I feel sorry for those girls!"

"We gave up because she was so much better than us."

"But it's terrible if she was deceiving us!"

"If that's true it would be better if they got taken by some other girls too."

"Getting uppity, just because she's a little smart."

"She's the worst."

"What does she take us for?"

"What does she take us for?"

Maho smiled. I looked at her. The smile was at her lips but it hardly touched her eyes. It was a pitiless thing, dark, almost cruel. It was the first time I'd ever seen her smile. I hated that look. And yet… it had power over me. I'd rather see her scowl, or her blank stare, anything but that dark scheming smile.

Maho, that's not a smile. Not the one you're capable of. I know you can do better than that.

"Looks like it'll get interesting," Eguchi said.

Maho stood and led the way out of the room. The other three followed. Like a useless team mascot I went too. I felt awful. Whose side was I on?

- - - oOo - - -

"Izawa?"

She turned to me.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I hate her. I loathe her to the core."

"What has she done to you?"

Maho stopped walking and rounded on me.

"What the hell do you know, Ryusaki? You know nothing. You haven't got a clue. Now you're either in this with me or if not…"

"What Izawa?"

"Then get the hell out of my sight!"

She turned away, Miyagi and the brown-haired Fushida going with her. Eguchi stood, looking at me imploringly.

"Ryusaki? Please come with us."

"Eguchi, I can't. This is wrong. She's done nothing to deserve this that I can see."

"You don't know Maho. Ryusaki, whatever you do, don't tell Miyazawa. If Maho finds out, you're dead. You don't want to see her angry, I'm telling you."

"How will she find out? Will you tell her?"

She looked away, a blush grew gently under her eyes.

"No. I… like you too much. But just, please don't do anything stupid, you know?"

I looked at the three girls walking away. I looked at that beautiful hair, that strong firm step, that straight back. Even though I hated what she was doing, and she had been right on the nail about how little I understood it, and her, I loved her too.

"Eguchi, I can't be involved in this. Gomen nasai."

I turned away.

"Ryusaki?"

"Yes."

I stopped but didn't turn back.

"It's swimming club tonight. I'll be there. Let's talk."

I walked away.

- - - oOo - - -

In the linguistics lab, fifth period. Everyone was chatting. The door opened and Miyazawa came in. The chat stopped instantly. People looked away, down at desks, at the suddenly interesting curtains, anywhere but at her.

Into the screaming silence she spoke.

"I guess home economics turned into a study period. I was so surprised when there was no-one in the classroom. I didn't know, so I ended up asking at the faculty office. Heh, he he…"

Her laugh tailed pathetically away. Silence. Most people ignored her and looked elsewhere. Some stared at her. She went red.

"Hu…huh?"

Almost undefeatable (how I so love her strength) she went towards three 1-A girls.

"Oh, yeah, you want to continue with that math problem?"

"It's okay," one of them turned slightly, talking over her shoulder, not looking, "I already got it."

Miyazawa stood there, mouth open. She suddenly looked smaller, unsure, worried.

The girl who said she solved the math problem spoke again.

"You can't solve them anymore because you're always playing with guys now."

A round of spiteful giggling sniggered among the class.

All the red-haired girl said, all she could say was,

"Oh. I see."

In a room of forty girls, none of whom acknowledged that she existed, she walked quietly to a chair and sat down, got out her books and began to read. The noise in the class picked up, the bustle of conversation resumed, but all around Miyazawa was left a space where no-one sat, through which no-one walked.

I stood watching her, wanting more than anything to go to her and say something, anything to show that she had a friend, an ally.

I saw Maho watching me. She wore that awful smile still. Her dark, beautiful, haunting, bitter eyes said, _just try it Sakana, just take one step towards her and I'll make your life a living hell…_

Helpless and hurting I left the room and spent the study period locked in a washroom cubicle, staring at a page of a history book and not reading a single word.

- - - oOo - - -

On the way to the chem. lab for next period I caught up with Maho and the girls walking past the bike stands.

"Did you see Miyazawa's face?" Miyagi was saying, "She turned all blue. I could almost feel sorry for her."

"She's had it so good," Fushida responded, "it's probably better she has some hard times now."

"She stands out too much to begin with," Eguchi added, "just because she's a little popular with the guys. Her looks aren't that great either. Maho's a lot more beautiful than her. Maho, you should rule the class, just like you did in middle school."

She laid a hand supportively on Maho's shoulder.

"You used to be real cool," Miyagi went on.

"I guess so," the leader mumbled, her voice dripping with false modesty.

_So. _

_Now I knew. _

_How stupid. Stupid girl one-upmanship. _

_Bitchy girls fighting just to be the top of the pile. _

_Maho, oh Maho, you can be so much better than this. _

- - - oOo - - -

_23 - __24 May 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	21. Even Though She Has Nothing To Gain

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty One – Even Though She Has Nothing To Gain**

At the end of the day I went to the lockers to get my swimming things. Miyazawa was there. I pulled my bag, she closed her locker and went past behind me. I could feel her presence burning up the whole room.

I looked left, looked right.

No-one else around.

"Miyazawa?"

She stopped, her back to me.

"I…"

"I think I know what's going on Ryusaki. And I have an idea of how this happened too. It's because I'm friends with Arima and Asaba isn't it?"

I glanced at her. She spoke to the floor a little way in front of her. I spoke to my blue sports bag.

"Hm."

"And because I stopped pretending to be a model student. I've brought this upon myself. This is the result of deceiving everyone all the time. There's no surprise they all hate me. I had never even wanted friends..."

"Miyazawa..."

"I'd deceived them, made them praise me, and I felt good about that. And I have to pay for it all now. Well, nothing's going to get done by brooding over it. Regretting what's already happened won't let me take it back. So at the very least, I'm going to be myself from now on. This is the real beginning of my real self."

I looked again at her back and wondered how someone in so much difficulty could be so practical and so strong.

All the times I had faced difficulty and bullying and simply run away. This girl was such a strong woman. How could I ever be like her?

"Miyazawa, maybe I can help. I know who's behind this, but…"

"But if you tell me and she finds out, she'll beat you up."

I stared at my bag.

"It's not that…"

It wasn't. Really it wasn't. I wasn't afraid of being beaten up.

I had become an expert at it.

At receiving and dealing with physical violence.

Since The Incident it had all gone wrong, everything. It all fell apart.

Dad died.

I never said anything to anybody.

My brother got a job on the ships and was away a lot. Thank God.

I started middle school.

My diet went all to hell and back. Without dad and with sis working long hours I fed myself.

On junk.

I put on weight. I got spotty. I bathed less. I stank.

And this was when I was twelve, then thirteen, then fourteen. All through middle school.

All the time my body was changing, growing, becoming a woman.

My first period.

Mom had never once told me anything about it, nor sis. We were never that kind of family. All I knew was from school education.

So I spent three days in agony, not knowing why I hurt, thinking I was dying.

And a whole afternoon knowing I was.

In a washroom cubicle, blood flowing out of me, crying and cursing the world.

A teacher came and took me home and was surprised that at home there was no-one there to meet me.

And that was the day I became a woman.

It should have been a happy time, a joyous time.

I should have had people around me to hug and congratulate me.

Instead I spent it alone in pain and mess and stench and confusion.

A time that should have been wonderful.

Well, I fucking hated every shitty second of it.

And the bullying. I got picked on because I was fat, and spotty, and smelly, and a loner.

And from a bright intelligent elementary school kid, my grades went downhill.

And I became a complete loser.

So, dear brother, thank you so fucking much for ruining my life.

Therefore I became an expert at running away, hiding, living my life in washroom cubicles. Taking different routes home to avoid _them_. And never having a single friend.

I had endured it all. I was an expert. A veteran soldier of many wars. Maho abusing me, physically or verbally wasn't the slightest concern to me.

You know what was?

The fact that I loved her.

I didn't want her to hate me.

If she found out I had told Miyazawa that she was behind this attack, she could swear at me and call me any number of foul things. No problem, go right ahead.

She could slap me, punch me, scratch me, beat me black and blue. Draw blood, hurt me until I screamed.

And I would not mind at all.

A part of that twisted me that craved her would even enjoy it.

It would, after all, be a form of her paying me attention, wouldn't it?

But if she did nothing, and hating me turned away, never to look at me again.

I would die.

I feared that above everything.

I would not be able to exist without her.

I could not exist _with_ her, she was driving me crazy, but without her I would be nothing.

"It's not that. But, well, she is my friend and I don't believe in betraying friends, no matter what they do. I think this person is wrong, they are being so wrong in this but… Maybe if I stick by her I can help in some way. Perhaps end it. Help you. Miyazawa, do you understand?"

I was still staring at my bag, gripping it tight, crunching it against my chest. When she answered her voice was still quiet and muffled. I imagined her still with her back to me.

"Ryusaki, arigato. You're a very strong person and I'm glad you're my friend. I understand. I won't tell anyone we had this conversation."

Strong? Me? That can't be right.

"Miyazawa?"

"Hm?"

"Please, just call me Sakana."

"Arigato. Sayonara, Sakana. We'll talk again when this is over, but for now its best that you stay away from Arima, Asaba and me."

A pause. Silence.

I turned.

I was alone.

"Sayonara, Yukino."

Not best for you, though, Miyazawa. She was the one suffering, she was the one being so cruelly and unjustly attacked out of someone's silly spite and yet… even in the middle of all that she considered my feelings first. She knew it would be best if I wasn't seen with her. Not best for _her_. Best for _me_.

"_she stays with me through everything even though she has nothing to gain_"

It was completely untrue what Maho thought of her, transparently untrue. Miyazawa was strong. And she was a good person, kind and thoughtful. I hoped she would be mature enough to weather this. I thought Maho was going to be no match for this woman.

I couldn't help Miyazawa directly but indirectly I could do a lot.

I hefted my sports bag over my shoulder and kicked the locker shut. Time for a swim.

- - - oOo - - -

_24 & 27 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty One and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	22. Everything Is So Complicated

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Two – ****Everything Is So Complicated**

I swam hard that evening. I told the coach I didn't want to train in the relay or mess about at water polo or practice my dives. I just needed space to burn off some energy. So he allocated me a lane at one side and I swam.

And swam, and swam.

Two hours non-stop.

I smashed my personal endurance record of forty four lengths and just kept going.

At fifty eight I stopped.

I could do more.

I wanted to.

I burned to do more, to forget all the crap of this crappy day and keep going all night.

But club time was over, the pool had to be locked up. Nearly everyone had gone home.

"Hey, you guys, can you run the filters for me when you pack up?"

"Sure, coach."

"And switch off when you go? And drop the keys in my office okay?"

"Yup."

"Alright. Bye."

"Bye."

"I'm getting out. I'm pooped."

"Okay Eguchi."

She climbed the ladder and sat at the top, facing me. I trod water.

"Hey, isn't it about time?"

"For?"

"Drop the family name, okay? It's Inoue."

"Okay, Inoue. That's a pretty name."

"Arigato."

But I didn't return the offer. She jumped up and called over her shoulder.

"Well, let's get changed."

I got out of the shower. I'd spent ages in there just letting the hot water pour over me. The water tanks here in the pool area are well up in the roof so the pressure is high. Turn up the temperature and then have it full on and it's really nice, it felt almost as though your sins could be scoured away with the dirt.

Almost.

Eguchi was dressed when I came into the locker area.

I began to towel myself. She sat down. I could feel her eyes on my naked back. She began:

"So, do you want to talk?"

I rubbed my hair vigorously and then lay the towel round my shoulders. I wiped a porthole in the steam of the mirror and checked my hair, pulling it about in spikes and chunks. I squirted gel into my hand and played about with the hair, getting it the way I like it. Electric shock style. I answered her:

"She's making a mistake."

"How come?"

"I know Miyazawa. She's too clever, too quick witted."

"That won't help her when she's the outcast."

"At the moment she can't do a thing. But if she finds out who's behind the _shikato_(1) she'll come out fighting."

"As I said, we'd better make sure she doesn't find out then."

Damn, a new spot. On my neck. I reached for the spot cream. I was getting through pints of the stuff these days.

I towelled my chest, stomach, between my legs, then my back.

"Do you agree with this? Doing this to Miyazawa?" I asked her.

Inoue was such a quiet girl. Usually a nice girl. She was just a sheep blindly following Maho's lead here surely?

"Of course. She deserves to come down a notch or two. She's gotten too big for her boots."

I turned around. I noticed immediately where Inoue's eyes went. She looked quickly back up at my face and went a little pink.

"She's clever, pretty and popular with the boys. You know what I think? I just think this is nothing more than jealousy. Childish envy of those who have by those who don't. I think it's stupid and it's hurting her. She's innocent."

"You can't know that."

I dropped the towel. Naked I was distracting her, despite her being protected by clothing my nudity gave me the advantage. I walked right up to her.

"Yes I can. I know her quite well. If Izawa continues with this, Miyazawa will eventually find out who it is. I won't tell her, that's not my style. But when she comes looking for Izawa – well, you know what she's like. It won't be pretty."

"Cover yourself up."

Inoue, her face pink, stood and walked away a few paces. She stopped, keeping her back to me.

You know what I think? I think she liked girls.

Maybe she even liked me. _That way_.

Well, well, well. How ironic.

Or of course I could be reading too much into things again and she could be just shy.

Life is a minefield. People's emotions and thoughts are a minefield too.

"Inoue, I'm her friend. So this battle is hurting me too."

No answer.

"I know Arima a little too. You know, right at the beginning of the semester when he was the freshman rep, and number one in the entrance exams, Miyazawa went ballistic about that. She'd always been top student in her middle school and hated him for sitting on her throne. I watched her. I saw it on her face. She loathed him.

"Just think about it. That's exactly where Izawa is now.

"And do you know what? _He_ fell in love with _her_. Long before she had any feelings for him, even when she was plotting his downfall and studying hard to get the number one position back off him in the mid-terms. All that time while she hated and despised him, he loved her.

"She never once trapped him or led him on or used her mask to trick him. She didn't do a single thing Izawa accuses her of. She just isn't the person Izawa thinks she is. You should try and get to know her, she's a good person. She's been nothing but kindness to me these last two months. You know, she was the first person to speak to me. Within a week or so after the mid-terms she came over and helped me with some math problems. It isn't an act Inoue, she's genuinely kind. She's drawn me out of my shell.

"Huh, listen to me, spewing out words like this. I could only mumble like the shy loser I was when I first came here. Friendship has helped me. Yours. And hers. It's friendship that makes people succeed and makes them happy, Inoue. Not these stupid battles, this silly fighting for top position.

"I know Izawa is capable of better things than this. I respect her a lot, she's got everything. The looks, the intelligence, a fighting spirit. Why doesn't she use those instead of getting the whole class to fight her battles for her? Hm? That's what she's doing, she's hiding in the shadows and using people like me and you and all the others to bring Miyazawa down.

"When Miyazawa lost her top spot to Arima she didn't sink to tactics like this. She used her intelligence and resourcefulness to get back the way she knew how, by beating him academically. And what did Arima do? He accepted that she was better than him with good grace. And into the bargain he fell in love with her because he saw a strong willed person.

"Turn around Inoue. I want you to look at me."

I saw the girl put her hands to her face.

"I… can't."

"Why not? You like me don't you?"

"Of _course_ I like you. You're just embarrassing me. Put something on."

"No. Look at me. I need to make a point."

"But - naked?"

"Yes."

She half turned and I saw her fingers part a little. She looked through them, cringing. Behind her fingers her blush grew deeper.

I put my hands on my hips.

"At the beginning of this year I wouldn't _dream_ of standing naked in front of anyone. Not even the mirror. I hated myself. I hated my body. I hated people, all people. I was shy and stupid and ugly and embarrassed and fat and useless. _Listen to me!_ I don't think I have ever spoken so many words together in my _entire life_. This is what friendship does. It changes people. Fighting only hurts them.

"I was bullied in middle school. I was a nervous, useless, overweight wreck. Look at me now and tell me that what Izawa is doing is fair and right.

"Inoue, you're closer to her than I am. I don't think she'll listen to me. We've never talked. But she'll listen to you. You're an old friend from middle school. Talk to her. Tell her how Arima and Miyazawa met. Tell her how friendly she is. Tell her that she was once in Izawa's position and she used her brains to fight her corner.

"Izawa is a coward. I like her a lot but she's doing everything wrong. And... you know, it hurts me to see someone I like behaving this way. Please tell her."

"Why don't you tell her?"

I looked down at the wet tiles.

"I just think it would be better coming from you. Stronger."

"Ryusaki-chan, you have a crush on her don't you?"

My turn to go pink. My turn to look away.

My turn to reach for something to cover myself with. I sat on the bench, my towel around me.

I looked at Inoue.

"Please, just call me Sakana, I'd prefer that."

She looked at me and I have never seen a look like that on someone's face. She looked devastated.

"Everything is so complicated."

She blurted out as she ran from the room.

- - - oOo - - -

_24 May 2007_

_(1) Shikato : ignoring. We might say in English a 'wall of silence'._

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Two, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	23. Within The Doors Of A Classroom

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Three – Within The Doors Of A Classroom **

A few days went by.

The battle of silence went on.

All the girls avoided Miyazawa.

I watched her and bled for her.

But I avoided her.

I even avoided Asaba.

That was hard because I heard rumours he was looking for me.

Oh, please, the last thing I want is news getting around that the school Casanova has his eye on me. Its fine for the flocks of little lambs to go running after him but when a guy like that asks after a girl, everyone knows it's serious.

Well they think they do which amounts to the same thing.

Even when it's not true, the rumour mill grinds up into top gear and it all goes out of control.

People point. And stare. And snigger.

_"What does he see in her?"_

_"Wow, does he need glasses or something?"_

_"She must have paid him to go out with her."_

Rumours and spite, just like in the old days.

I was sitting quietly at my desk trying to write a composition in English. Trying (as always) to catch up.

Izawa was nearby, looking out the window. The others were elsewhere.

I glanced up. She stood, as always, with folded arms and crossed ankles. Her back was to me and it struck me how defensive she looked. She never assumed an open posture, her body language was always closed in, shut down, on guard, the barriers were always up.

Why?

_What are you hiding?_

_Why won't you open up?_

_I want to come in, let me in._

I realised that even though I'd known her for three months I didn't know her at all. Apart from her name, her age and the fact that she was top girl in her middle school and that something about her that was completely hidden from me had made me fall desperately, hopelessly, traumatically in love with her, I knew nothing at all about her.

Apart from us two, there were only two other girls in the room. It was a hot day, after all. One of them spoke.

"Hey, how long are we going to do this for?"

Izawa leapt at this weakness, stamped it down.

"What? You're siding with Miyazawa now?"

Her voice was like ice. My God, how she must hate her.

"Uh…"

She came over to me and stood by my desk. I looked up.

"I heard from Inoue. She was quite convincing. Nice try Sakana. But you missed one point. Arima was able to accept Miyazawa as top dog because he was smitten by her. He was in love. So he could stand losing to her. Because he would have her, and her success would be his. With me, it's different.

"If I lose to her, that's all that happens. I lose. There is no compensation."

"Izawa, please. I think you're wrong. If you stop this people's respect for you will grow. If you stop now and make friends with her you won't come out of this with nothing."

She chuckled. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"Make friends? With Miyazawa? Why the hell would I want to do that?"

"Well, not just her. Your self-worth will be better. And well, me. As a friend too. Although… well, I don't suppose my respect means much to someone like you…"

I dared to look up from my desk at her face. It was hard and cold and I wondered if anyone could ever get through that armour.

It seemed to me like the idea of having me as a friend ranked about as high on her list of wants as a visit to the dentist.

"Izawa, you know you can gain as much from this situation as Miyazawa did from hers. More, because she only gained Arima, you'll gain her, and him, and Asaba."

"And you," she added, her voice sounded as though she were smiling, but she wasn't. Her face remained as dead-pan as ever, "I know about you, Sakana. Inoue didn't only talk to me about what you said concerning Miyazawa. She said you like wandering about naked in front of other girls. I've seen you looking. Don't think your little daydreams have gone un-noticed."

Oh God.

Inoue. You _told_ her?

She knows…

She knows I…

I was all the more unhappy because although I prayed for it the ground obstinately refused to open up and swallow me.

"Laughter - Anger - Worries - Love - Friendship - Competitiveness - Growth and degeneration. All these emotions packed within the doors of a classroom."

I didn't quite understand what she was on about.

She sounded sad, tired.

I frowned at her.

"Please, Izawa, what you're doing is so unfair. And so un-necessary."

She straightened up, a snort of annoyance jetted from her nostrils. Her arms remained folded. She went to the door, slid it open, spoke over her shoulder.

"Sakana, you're starting to sound whiney. People who are my friends and who can call me Maho don't whine. So stop it."

She went.

- - - oOo - - -

For the last ten minutes of that lunch break my English composition remained forgotten.

It became, in fact, completely irrelevant.

School was irrelevant.

Not being able to dance even one step was irrelevant.

Swimming, being healthy and not eating junk food were irrelevant.

The fact that I still hadn't done my social studies homework that was due in tomorrow (how I missed Miyazawa's help) was irrelevant.

Only one thing in this world was important.

Her words.

"_People who are my friends and who can call me Maho don't whine. So stop it."_

That may not sound like much to you, but those were the kindest words anyone had ever spoken to me.

My heart burst with stupid girlish gratitude.

If I had been a manga character there would be those silly big fat tear drops sitting on my lower eyelids. In an anime my eyeballs would be quivering to indicate heightened emotion.

She could tell me she knew I had a crush on her.

And she could be rude to me right after.

And still she could send me to heaven.

- - - oOo - - -

_24 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Three, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	24. Maho, Yukino, Glass Floors, School Roofs

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Four – Maho, Yukino, Glass Floors And School Roofs **

_Sail your sea,  
Meet your storm.  
All I want is to be your harbour._

The light in me  
Will guide you home.  
All I want is to be your harbour.

- Vienna_ Teng, Harbour_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It took a week but eventually it ended.

It had too.

The whole school would have imploded with some sort of emotion overload if a safety valve hadn't finally lifted.

And strangely enough the person who was instrumental in resolving things was completely unaware of what they were doing.

Shibahime Tsubasa, the prettiest demon on earth.

Actually that's unfair. Shibahime wasn't just unaware of her role in ending the Great Maho-Yukino War of '95, she was in fact pretty much unaware of almost everything.

How can I best illustrate Shibahime's laser-rangefinding, scalpel-precision awareness of the world around her?

Well, if you had told her that men had landed on the moon in 1969 she would reply.

"What moon?"

You see, that's the kind of girl she was.

She was… hm, how to be kind about this? A woman of limited personal horizons.

Well, no time for her story now, if I break into that it'll only confuse things. But the point is, the same week that Miyazawa had to deal with the Great Wall of Silence she also had to deal with four feet five inches of _kawaiiness_, hellfire and brimstone. A girl so cute, so petite and yet so inhumanly lethal that I think the UN needs an emergency resolution on preventing her being deployed near high-density urban areas.

I'm sure she was the original inspiration for the anime series "Saikano". Except in that story Chise had a brain, an imagination and a conscience.

Sorry, I'm being unfair.

Shibahime, I later learned, did have a conscience.

Hm, and I'm getting sidetracked.

But by a roundabout route, Shibahime - who also decided that Miyazawa was a girl who existed just so she could hate something - had some friends in 1-D (over in the other block and whom we never saw except in PE). Through Shibahime's hatred of Miyazawa they made friends with her (yeah, yeah, I know I just said Shibahime hated Miyazawa's guts but give me a moment here) and they got to hear that she was being bullied and one of _them_ suggested to her that the key to defeating a group was to defeat the leader.

And that led Miyazawa to watch carefully for this leader.

And of course, I helped.

_-struts about importantly- _

_-gets head jammed in doorway that is suddenly too narrow- _

Sorry to be big headed, but when the day comes that you finally discover, after nearly sixteen years of struggling, and angst and fear and The Incident, that there _is_ after all, a reason you're here on this big fat crappy planet, well, I think I'm entitled to make a bit of a song and dance about it.

Well if I could dance I would.

I had mentioned to Miyazawa that I was friends with the person involved.

The importance of that remark went completely un-noticed in my mind. Happy in my ignorance I went blissfully on my way. Much like Shibahime Tsubasa in fact.

I walked about the fields at night, the ground around me bathed in mysterious blue light and thought _"what moon?"_

As of course any normal mortal would.

But Miyazawa, being the logical, analytical, super-brained moo that she is, did a huge spreadsheet and powerpoint presentation and ran all sorts of data through the school computers and conducted extensive field tests, and interviewed the drivers of every silver car that passed over Shibuya Crossing last Thursday and spent hours poking lab rats to come to the amazing conclusion (you know, her mental skills just blow me away) that I, Ryusaki Sakana, the girl the whole one-thousand strong school knows intimately (ha, ha), has in fact got exactly three (count them) three girlfriends:

1) Eguchi Inoue  
2) Izawa Maho  
3) Miyazawa Yukino

It took Miyazawa only a very short period of intense analysis to work out she wasn't bullying herself which left just two candidates.

And then her special undercover field operative Colonel Arima "Pool Stalker" Soichiro was finishing Kendo one evening and wandered into the pool, as he sometimes does.

Well, he didn't actually wander _in_, but you know what I mean.

And from behind a partition he overheard a snippet of conversation between Inoue and I which apparently went something like…

"_I spoke to her Sakana. Told her what you'd said." _

"_What did she say?" _

"_She's still going to go on with it, she says she's got to teach Miyazawa a lesson." _

…that led him to conclude that Inoue was more or less, on the basis of carefully assessing the evidence, _not_ the person Miyazawa was looking for.

Which left one name on the list.

And even _I_ could do that problem, so for Miyazawa it was a piece of p… well, it was easy.

So Miyazawa simply waited for her opportunity to strike.

The hunter had become the hunted.

And Miyazawa was so good at this game that Maho never even knew she was sitting slap bang in the spotlight of Miyazawa's glare, like a World War Two escapee caught in a Nazi searchlight.

And the watchtower machine guns were about to do the talking.

And you know? It surprised even me. Given how carefully Maho had played this game it was she who gave herself away.

Maho had seen Miyazawa talking with the girls in 1-D and this seriously pissed her off.

Because she'd carefully ensured that everyone in our block, in 1-A, 1-B and 1-C was giving her the cold shoulder. But Maho's influence didn't extend to the other block where 1-D to 1-G had their homerooms.

While clearly, Miyazawa's influence did.

A pill too bitter to swallow.

So one day Maho made her move.

Her mistake.

- - - oOo - - -

It was lunchtime, exactly a week after it all began. I was in 1-As homeroom with Inoue, Maho, Yumi and Ryoko. The class was full, almost all girls. Miyazawa came in and sat, quickly and alone, as usual, at her desk. She flipped out a book.

Without looking up, head still bent to her desk, Maho made her mistake.

"What?" she said, "Now that people don't pay attention to you in this class, you're going to get in favour with the girls in another class? You're good at it as usual, you know? Deceiving people is nothing to you, right? I'd love to hear how you did it this time."

Shocked that Maho would be so stupid as to leave her attack hanging open like that, with an offer to Miyazawa to speak, I looked at the victim.

Complete surprise was on her face.

Shock.

It was plain what was going on inside her head. She might as well have held up a big card sign with **LEADER** written on it. **WOW, THIS IS THE LEADER! **

And into that huge opening she dived, a beautiful dive it was, far better than anything I could have done.

"Nothing. I didn't do anything in particular."

"Wow, that's rare. So you're not going to feign innocence anymore?"

**SHE'S THE LEADER **

"What a waste! And you were so good at deceiving people too. You were having a good time, weren't you? You don't have to mind it, just because people know now. You should keep on doing it."

"Ma…Maho…" from somewhere a concerned ally murmured, "stop it."

Miyazawa dived.

"I can understand why you would hate me. It's true. I used to do dirty things like that. I have no excuses. There's nothing I can do if that's what people think of me. But then, why do you try to get an advantage by getting the other girls to side with you? I'm dirty, but you're dirty, too. If you don't like me, just say so to my face. Can't you even voice your opinion one on one?..."

(_oh, Maho, this is what I said, why use us to fight your wars?_)

"…It's true that I was in the wrong, but I'm not so nice that I'll endure having this done to me…"

Miyazawa stood and walked slowly to Maho's desk. The textbook position of superiority, standing over her target, looking down. I realised that this was the first time I'd seen Maho in action where she wasn't standing.

"…you're full of confidence aren't you? You think you've won by getting the class to side with you, don't you? I'm glad for you. Are you happy now?"

It happened so fast I don't recall seeing anyone move, but suddenly they were both standing and Miyazawa was reeling backwards, an ugly red splotch already marking her face and Maho was stepping back, recovering from her forward swing and the heavy crashing slap she'd just delivered against her opponent.

Miyazawa stepped back again and straightened. She made no counterblow, no strike back, except with words, words that hung in the thick air of that sunny classroom for minutes afterwards.

"You should've done that in the first place!"

And shameful though I felt, I was unhappy, my gut was churning with disappointment because it was Maho, whom I loved, even though she was wrong, who ran out of the room, leaving her tormentor, whom I merely liked, victorious.

"Maho!" I called, but it was useless, she was defeated.

"Sakana," Miyazawa faced me, "do what friends do. Go."

I ran out, pushing past a surprised looking Arima who had just come in. He must have seen Maho run out.

"Gomen!"

- - - oOo - - -

"I was no match for her, in school or in track."

Maho spoke quietly, staring at the concrete, it seemed like she wasn't talking to me but to voices in her head.

We were on the roof. Under the bright sun.

But it was still gloomy here.

Dark.

"…No, I can't anymore…No matter what I do, Sakana, I can't win! This helpless feeling. Of defeat. No-one can understand. They can't understand anything."

"Maho, try me."

She looked up from the ground. She was leaning back against the railing, arms folded below her chest, legs straight, and, to complete the set, ankles crossed. Something reached out inside me and made me do it, made me decide to take this moment and use it properly, to do something good. Something other that run away, hide, mutter platitudes.

"_Oh, well…" _

"_Um, okay then…" _

"_You know..uh, you know best…" _

"_Gomen…" _

No. Miyazawa had said it, she had made me move my legs and walk from that awful room, that hot sunny battlefield.

"_Do what friends do. Go." _

Maho looked at me, her face as blank a mask as always. And I did it. For the first time in my life I did it. I moved.

I helped someone.

I put my hands on her forearms and lifted them and lay them aside.

"Come on, open up. I want to see behind these barriers."

Her face never changed, and I don't think she was even looking at me. A touch taller than me, she seemed to look a little over my head at something in the distance behind me.

"I never thought things would go well. I guessed things might turn out like this from the beginning. There was a time when I used to be pampered. And I was confident and believed that I was better than others. But that was only conceit within a small world. When I met Miyazawa I knew from the first thing that there are plenty of people far better than me in the world."

"You know, it's probably harder for you than for me," I responded, "I've come from a very ordinary background. We never had much money and I was never a very bright student, except when I was very young. My family never gave me much love, they were always so busy. I tended to get along on my own without much encouragement. So I've always seen the world from near the bottom of the pile.

"You though, you saw it from the top, didn't you? Like you were up here on the school roof, looking down on people. You saw yourself in the lead. But then one day I guess you realised you weren't at the top but there was an invisible floor above you, a glass floor and up there lived a whole class of people you could never match."

She moved, she uncrossed her ankles.

"Its hot here in the sun," she said, "let's find some shade."

We walked beside the railing to the side of the stairwell enclosure. We stopped in the narrow strip of shade. There was almost none here at this time of day in mid-summer. From here we could see down to the sports pitches and the trees. There were a lot of students down there lazing on the ground, reading, chatting, sleeping, eating. I looked and saw a community just getting along, not fighting and not exactly bursting out in love or friendship either. Just, you know, existing. That was good enough for me, things didn't have to be wonderful, I didn't have to see the world from the top of a personal hill all the time, like some successful mountaineer.

I was happy with just so-so.

Any day I wasn't beaten up and chased into a washroom cubicle was a good one.

I had no idea what it must be like for the girl beside me, who had enjoyed that view, and no longer did.

"The people up there, the ones on the other side of the glass floor. You know, academically you'll never meet them, but hey, they're still just people. You can meet them in other ways. If you want to. The Miyazawas and the Arimas. You can be friends with them."

"There's nothing more miserable than to have someone better than you take the place you used to be in. I didn't even want to see but my mind was always occupied with her and unknowingly my eyes would always follow her. An attachment to Miyazawa, It's like an intense love..."

_Maho...I..._

_I know..._

_I feel this too, in my own way..._

"...That's why I'm probably the only one who noticed what she was doing - putting on an act! Who else could possibly understand my frustration."

"Maho..."

She glared at me.

"It might be the same with someone you either love very much, or hate very much, but Sakana, you don't know what I went through. I'd wake in the morning and see her. I'd walk to school plotting her downfall."

"You're not alone in this Maho. Lots of people are like this with people they are fixated on."

_I am like this… _

_I am like this… _

_I am like you… _

_I love you… _

"No, I don't think so. Not in the way I was. A woman like that took _everything_ from me. On top of that she's in love and wants to come clean now! It's unforgivable! I wanted to destroy her! Just the way I was being destroyed!"

Her fists clenched, her whole body became taut, her face scared me. Such hatred in it.

"But that's over now too," she went on, "I have to put an end to this stupid pride."

"Please, yes, I hate fighting. I was in lots of fights at middle school. I lost them too. I hate things like this Maho, it never solves anything and it hurts so much."

She stopped and looked at me. The shade clipped across her face, one side of it was dark, almost black against the bright light. The other half was lit by the strong sunlight. White and black, good and bad, happy and sad, laughing clown and tragic clown. It's not often my uninspiring mind sees a symbol in something, but I saw this one here. It was like Maho was straddling two places, she had the opportunity to choose either path, right or wrong, friends or alone, right or left. It was a really odd moment.

I wish I was a writer.

I could express it better.

There was a gentle breeze that moved her hair, one curtain of it swept across the sunlit side of her face making all of her face dark. She moved it aside with a finger. Sunlight again. And even then she never smiled. She looked at me but never smiled.

"Maho, I wish you could be friends with me. I'll introduce you to my friends."

I stood with mentally clenched fists and willed that smile to come. For me, just for me. Just once. _Please. _

"_Sakana, you're starting to sound whiney. So stop it." _

But no.

I would like to be able to say that in that symbolic moment we became friends.

I would like to be able to say that up there in the sunlight in the cliché from every high school anime ever made, up on the school roof there followed a great romance scene. That, seeing me as a friend she fell into my arms and we hugged. And she shed those big fat anime tears. That up here above the bustling world of men we were symbolically on a higher level, the fresh air up here being a symbol of change and renewal.

But I can't.

We didn't.

We didn't become friends.

She didn't splatter fat tears all down me.

She didn't fall into my arms

And she didn't smile.

Nothing happened at all.

I thought I'd reached her but now I wasn't sure what had happened.

She turned and walked to the stairwell entrance. I reached for the handle and held the door open for her.

"Arigato."

She stepped through.

But for a moment there had been a hint of something in her face.

Had she said thank you for me holding the door?

Or for something else?

- - - oOo - - -

It wasn't much, but I thought there had been something.

So I clung on to that hope.

- - - oOo - - -

_24 - 25 May 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Four, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	25. Are You Going To Sympathize With Me?

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Five – Are You Going To Sympathize With Me? **

The next day.

It was obvious it would happen, so we should have seen it coming, but it was still a shock when it came.

The five of us, The Maho Gang we were called, were in the corridor returning to 1-A for lunch.

Out of the classroom door came a large mass of girls, I don't know how many, twenty, thirty, maybe more.

They filled the corridor and stopped in front of us.

I'm a good mood detector, so I can taste impending trouble, violence about to happen.

This crowd had no violent intent, so I was fairly calm. Even so, a little perturbed, I stood at the back behind Maho and wondered. The black-haired Yumi was to her left, Ryoko and Inoue to her right.

A girl stepped forward.

"Maho, we don't know why you'd go so far to crush Miyazawa-san but we can't forgive you for deceiving us. We can't trust you anymore. We don't want to become any more petty so we won't ignore you. But no-one is going to listen to you any more. If you want to do it so much then do it yourself. That's our decision."

The crowd dissolved away.

There was a moment's silence, Yumi spoke.

"M… Maho?"

"You all should distance yourselves from me now, too. This is as far as I can go. Nothing good will come of staying with me any longer."

Again, Yumi,

"Then…?"

She took a pace away as though Maho had a bad infection. Ryoko was even worse, she covered her mouth with a hand so she wouldn't breathe in the bad germs.

"Gomen…"

She went, Yumi followed.

And I was shocked to see Inoue go too.

A moment of quiet.

"All of you," said Maho, her back to me.

"No. It hurts me to say it, but you're wrong again, Maho. I've seen you do or say too many wrong things this week, so I'm not going."

"Go away, it won't help you to be near me."

She turned and there was anger in her face.

I recoiled.

_"Nothing good will come of staying with me any longer." _

"For me, maybe not. But I'm not thinking of me. I'm thinking of you. You need someone around you."

"Oh, come on, save me the weeping violins."

_"she stays with me through everything even though she has nothing to gain_"

"No. I'm staying. Not because I think what you did was right, you know that, but because I can't abandon a friend. You said I was your friend, and this is what friends do. This isn't false sympathy or weeping violins you silly thing. I like you. Can't you get that through that proud skull of yours?"

And I did it again, the second time.

I reached out a hand and laid it on her arm. She looked at that hand.

It was a funny look, almost of disdain, almost as though she despised me for showing that I cared. As though caring was a weakness.

Is that why she is like she is?

She's been taught to fight on her own?

I can't fathom this girl at all.

I'm trying to get close, but you won't let me in.

Do you ever let anyone in?

Someone was coming down the corridor. I knew that red hair a mile off. Miyazawa glanced at us and went into 1-A.

Maho looked at my face. I don't know even now if something was there or not, like on the roof stairwell. Maybe just my imagination. But I tried again to forge a link. I wasn't very good at this.

"Arigato."

"What for?" she asked

"Not pushing me away."

"Oh, when I push you away you'll know."

"Maho, would you just stay here a moment? I want to get something?"

"Whatever."

I let go of her carefully, afraid she might run off or disappear like a dream.

I went into the classroom and across to the desk by the window, column one, desk four.

I laid my fingertips gently on her shoulder.

"Please, Miyazawa, can you go into the corridor. Someone needs you. Can you… Can you do what friends do? And go?"

She stood up, put a hand on my shoulder and patted it.

"Good girl," she smiled.

She went out. I followed her and stood in the doorway. Hovering a little way off.

Fretting.

I was like a mother hen, all on edge.

Maho was leaning back against the window, in her usual pose.

But not quite, her arms were unfolded and now her elbows rested on the window sill behind her. Her posture was a little more open than usual.

_Yes, Maho, please, open up._

Miyazawa went and stood near her and looked out at the view.

"What? Are you going to sympathize with me?" Maho said, bitter, "If you get any ideas I don't like, I'll slap you."

"No, I just thought I'd sympathize with you," the girl on the glass floor replied.

"What?"

"You don't do things thoroughly enough. You couldn't completely hide that you were the leader. When you're going to trap someone, you have to do it more artfully. If it were me, I would have done it better."

Maho reached for her and grabbed her cheek, pinching it.

"You really piss me off!"

Her voice was as cold and angry as always. I thought she would undo all the work I and Miyazawa were trying to do, and hurt her, maybe she intended to. But she merely gripped Miyazawa's face for a few moments and then let go.

And then it finally happened.

I saw it.

She laughed. With an awkward, half embarrassed chuckle her nerve failed her and she released the tension.

Miyazawa was laughing as well.

And then I was too, quietly, to myself.

I put a knuckle in my mouth and bit on it to keep quiet, but the laughter came anyway.

Partly in relief that maybe out of this mess something good could come.

Partly in pride that I had finally done something in my life that had real value, and that made me feel good.

Mm, very good.

And partly (and if you really must know, mostly) in wonder at that face. She has a beautiful face, you know I've said this before. Even sombre and dark and serious and angry it's beautiful. But when she smiles, when she laughs. My God, I don't know how I can resist it. It's the most captivating thing I've ever seen.

It's wonderful.

And despite her faults, she is too.

Being in love with someone who doesn't return your love is horrible.

But some days, when she laughs, I wouldn't have it any other way.

- - - oOo - - -

Then I realised that the long first semester was ending, and summer was here.

I wonder what will happen?

And I really ought to learn to dance.

- - - oOo - - -

_25 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Five, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	26. Demon Dwarf Princess

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Six – Demon Dwarf Princess **

As for Shibahime Tsubasa there isn't much I can say about the few days she spent fighting Miyazawa.

I wasn't involved.

And I was thinking about someone else all that week.

But I did hear of some fights, some nasty physical stuff.

Maho fought with willpower, Shibahime was more of a kung fu lover I think, ju-jitsu and shuriken to the back of the skull were more her style.

She had missed almost all of the first semester due to hospitalization after a skateboarding injury and her father allowed her to begin school only in early July.

She had been to the same middle school as Arima, it seems, and the group of girls from 1-D who befriended Miyazawa.

Shibahime's problem was she had a crush on Arima, and had all through the three years of their middle school.

She got out of hospital and found her world turned upside down.

Arima was always a distant boy, a very private person; he always turned down girls who confessed their feelings to him. His falling in love with Miyazawa this April must have been a life changing event for him.

It certainly was for Shibahime because she knew Arima well and knew he would never fall in love with another girl.

He hadn't loved her in middle school but he had liked her, treated her as a kid sister. I think she resigned herself to that, in a way it was enough.

Something like me and being able to bear Maho being near me and at least noticing me. You know? I think that's common the way people who are too shy to confess their love will endure the pain of it as long as they can be at least near the one they crave.

But when Shibahime found out he had a girlfriend, well, as I said, I wasn't close to this episode but I think it was even more traumatic for Miyazawa than the Great Wall of Silence.

But one day, almost the last day of the semester it ended, Shibahime admitted that she had lost him and was seen with her friends bawling her eyes out.

I would learn a lot more about Shibahime in the next few days, and the strangest thing was that she played a big role in my life, and in the lives of several of us that summer. She was a link, on the one side there was me, Maho, Arima, Miyazawa and Asaba and on the other side were Shibahimne's three friends. Three girls. These were Sakura Tsubaki who was in the girl's volleyball team, Sena Rika a quiet, and small (but beautifully shaped) brunette who was very good at needlework and making clothes and lastly a rather odd girl, a very cold fish called Sawada Aya. She was a writer. A damn good one as it turned out.

Maho and I were going to get to know these girls quite well and by the end of the summer we had formed a group.

It was a large group and various people orbited its centre at different distances. Miyazawa and Arima, being the only couple, would swoop in and out, joining the group for some days and then going off to do their own thing for a while before coming back. Asaba was pretty much his own boss and would drop by as the mood took him, sometimes dragging me along with him, sometimes not.

Nine of us, seven girls, two guys. Given that the one other guy was Arima, it was an Asaba dream world. His Maryland Project had failed, but this was a close substitute.

And of course Inoue.

How could I forget her?

Last seen running off down the corridor after Maho's gang disbanded.

She never joined our group but I kept in touch with her and we met up to go swimming and shopping a few times.

End of term exam results. The kimatsu test. Arima dropped from number two to number three. Miyazawa (shock, horror, gasp) tumbled from number one to number thirteen (there was some affair with Kawashima-sensei the year master over that, her parents were brought in to school or something but I never heard the details). Poor old Asaba fell from place one-seven-five to two-oh-one. But then he had spent all summer body boarding and chatting up beach babes. What do you expect?

But guess what.

I really will have to get the upper halves of all my doors widened.

Despite all the excitement and stress and trauma and cursing inside washroom cubicles, that sorry loser Ryusaki Sakana went from two-six-six out of three hundred students to one-nine-oh. Ahead of Asaba.

I didn't crow about it.

I was too afraid to.

In case it was an administrative error.

Something else nice happened that semester too.

When I ran I no longer waddled. And I no longer got out of breath. I had to buy a second, smaller swimsuit too. My original one was all baggy on me now. I was still a little spotty but hey, what's a few zits now and then? I was on top of them now, beating them back the little bastards.

And best of all.

I started out at 143cm, 104 pounds and a 30 A cup. I ended at 148cm, 91 pounds and a 28 B.

Now _that_ was something to be pleased about.

- - - oOo - - -

_25 - 27 May 2007 _

_For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum. _

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Six, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	27. The Boy Who Couldn't Be Trusted

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Seven – The Boy Who Couldn't Be Trusted **

Last day of school. Everyone bye-bye-ing and waving and getting ready to party.

I was walking out the gate.

"Oh, I just died and went to heaven. My every dream has come true…"

Oh, Geez…

I knew that voice.

"Hi, Asaba, whatever. Just keep your distance."

"I cannot let such a vulnerable girl-lamb go down to the station unescorted, who knows what evils might befall you."

"I could avoid a lot of evils if you were in Okinawa."

"Ah," he stepped in front of me and leaned back, the back of one hand across his forehead in a ridiculous theatrical display of love-struck grief, "It pains me so to hear your anguish, Saka, my pretty flower…"

_"No! Get out of my way!" _

I pushed him, elbowed him aside and strode by.

"Wha…? What did I do?"

"_Don't ever_ call me that!"

"What? Saka…?"

"Yes! I hate it. I hate that pet name."

He came in front of me again, blocking my grumpy progress. He went down on his knees while people walked by. He clasped his hands together under his chin.

"Oh my angel, my goddess, my girl-child saviour…"

I went round him.

"For God's sake, get up, you're embarrassing."

"You know, true love has no boundaries, the decency of normal behaviour is cast aside by the truly love-struck."

Past him now I turned, looking back. He did look kind of stupid. People passing us were staring.

"Asapin. Look, how can I get through to you? I'm deadly serious. One (I held up a finger), don't you ever, _ever_ use that name. I hate it. Two (I held up a second, palm towards him), stop being such a creepy… well, creep. Now get up."

He knelt there and turned his head looking at me through his long pale fringe.

"My little angel, I have offended you. Seppuku is my only option now."

I went back to him, offered him my arm.

"Alright, alright, I can't stand this any more. Look at the colour of my face, the embarrassment police will arrest me for over-pinking. So will you just please stop."

He lifted one arm and took mine, standing up quickly and smoothly in one rapid gracious motion.

Despite what people said about him, despite what an embarrassing creep he could be, despite everything pervy about him that freaked me out, there was no denying he was physically absolutely gorgeous.

Standing he towered over me by almost a foot.

My eyes came level with his breast.

Next to him I had a sudden flash of feeling.

Is this how a small girl should feel next to a tall man?

A feeling of having something powerful and dominant close to you?

Someone hard and strong and male and confidant?

And protective?

What was this?

But surely, I…?

He'd been on the beach most of July. His skin was the colour of toffee. It was creamy and smooth...

"Sakana, please. I apologize for offending you. It wasn't intentional. Gomen nasai."

He even made a small bow.

I looked up at him. I think he was genuinely sorry he'd annoyed me. I think that was the first genuine emotion I ever saw on him.

And you know what?

It suited him.

"It's okay. A member of my family uses that name and I don't like him and it reminds me of him. Alright?"

"You don't have to explain, beautiful lady. Just say I shouldn't say it and I won't. I will obey your wish. Anything to please you. So, take my arm."

He put out one arm, the elbow bent. I looked at it like it was a gun that might go off.

"Is that safe?"

"Of course it's safe, don't you trust me?"

I looked at him again.

"No."

He rolled his eyes and looked heartbroken.

"It's so lonely when the one that has captured your heart denies also your trust."

"You're doing it again. Can't you turn the bullshit off for just a little while?"

"I'm so offended. Many a true word is spoken… and so on... and etcetera…"

"You don't love me. I know it. You're just saying creepy things to… well, I don't know. Why do you say them?"

We were walking now. I'd not even noticed it but my sports bag was somehow over his other shoulder. How had that happened? His offered arm was no longer on offer.

I walked beside him but left a gap. A gap that said to him _Look, there's a gap between us. I'm leaving it deliberately okay? No contact please. At least, not yet._

"Girls love it."

"This one doesn't. It makes my skin crawl."

"Oh."

"Well maybe not _crawl. _Gomen, that was a little strong. But at times it gets a bit much, that's all."

"That's because you're an intelligent woman. My sweet nothings have more impact the less there is inside a girl's head."

_Um, figures._

"Is that why you do it? To get girls who are empty headed? Bimbos?"

"Life is so much easier without complications."

_You're damn right there buddy. If only, though._

"But boring, no?"

"Oh, no. With girls on this wonderful planet, life is never boring."

So Asaba was doing this as a barrier. To keep inquisitive, complicated relationships away. Well that was interesting. A thought struck me.

"Have you ever…um, you know… done it?"

He stopped.

"What sort of question is that?"

"Just a question question. Does it embarrass you?"

"No, but you shock me. I thought a girl like you wouldn't be interested in such things."

_O RLY?_

"And what sort of girl am I?"

"You are interested?"

He actually looked shocked.

"I'm not saying one way or the other. And you didn't answer the question. I'm asking you what sort of girl you think I am."

"You are all the same to me, my little lambs…"

"Asapin?"

"Hm?"

"Are you able to turn that stuff off and just talk? You know, real words. Put them in line one after another so they make up real sentences?"

"Do I annoy you?" he asked. He actually looked a little hurt.

"Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes you're funny and I really like it. Sometimes you're embarrassing but still kinda funny and I put up with it. Sometimes though…"

"Hm?"

I was quiet for a minute. _Careful now._

"I've never had a boyfriend."

"Ah."

"What does 'ah' mean?"

"A sort of, 'oh, here we go' kind of 'ah'."

"Don't worry. All I'm saying is I've never been close to a guy so I don't really know what to do. Not even had one as just a friend. So I sort of like the fun stuff but maybe it'd be good to drop it from time to time and just talk."

"Sounds like Soichiro would be your type."

"Oh, no. Definitely not. Too quiet."

_Maho is quiet. And she's my type. Very much my type. _

"Well, I'm not quiet."

"Yeah, I'd noticed. I'm not sure quite what it was, but something told me you weren't the kind of guy to sit at home and listen to Brahms and do Bonsai."

"I don't know Brahms, what club does he DJ at?"

We had reached Shin-Maruko station. His route went in, mine went past. We stopped at the entrance.

"So, given that Arima isn't my type, can _you_ hold up a conversation?"

"You'll have to try me sometime."

"Alright, I will."

"Good, it's a deal."

"Well, gotta go," I said, though I didn't want to.

"What's up tomorrow?"

"Dunno. Homework probably. Maybe I'll go for a swim."

"Want to meet me?"

"Meet you? You mean…? Asaba Hideaki, are you asking me out?"

"Not really. We'd have to be boyfriend and girlfriend for that. So, well, just a day out, eh? Go swimming? Some lunch? A movie maybe?"

"Can I trust you"?

He looked at me and grinned.

"No. Absolutely not."

"In that case, yeah, let's go out."

"I'll come get you about ten. Is that okay?"

"Okay. Wait, my address."

"No need. I know it."

"You do?"

_Eh? _

"Hm. I looked it up."

"Asapin! Now _that_ is creepy! You're stalking me!"

"Why would I stalk an intelligent woman like you when I can have any number of air-head lambs jump into my bed any night of the week?"

"Well, you seem to have looked up my address which I have to say kinda creeps me out."

He made no answer but grinned like a lunatic.

"And anyway," I added, "these air-headed girls, how many of them have you had then?"

"Oh," he smiled and made a 'who knows' gesture with his raised palms, "pffft… hundreds."

I wondered.

"Okay. At ten then. Bye."

"You'll need this. Unless you want me to bring it in the morning."

"Ah, arigato," I took my bag.

"And to think, if I'd kept quiet I could have taken it home. And sniffed your swimming costume…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, that's _sick_. Arh, you're just _sooo_ gross sometimes. Don't do that!"

I recoiled from him and cupped a hand over nose and mouth in revulsion.

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

He smiled again, and waved as I went, my arm up above my head.

"Bye!"

"Ciao, baby!"

Two people.

One who talked too much and was in my face far too close.

Another who I couldn't drag close enough, no matter how I tried.

One boy, one girl.

_Hundreds, eh? I wonder?_

- - - oOo - - -

_27 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Seven and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	28. A Day Out With A Lunatic

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Eight – A Day Out With A Lunatic **

_"Th__...There is no way I could like that dirty-minded, blunderous, lying, perverted, deviant idiot!"_

- Narusegawa Naru, Love Hina

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning I had a good long lie in, showered and ate. I took my time but even so by nine thirty I was dressed and sat like a silly little girl all ready waiting for my date.

Heck, you're nearly sixteen Sakana, why are you behaving like you're six?

I sat in the sunshine on one of the kitchen barstools and swung my legs, thinking as little as possible.

I'd tried on three different outfits, again, like a nervous kid.

A yellow dress first. No, too pretty, too girly.

Jeans and a tee shirt. Nope, too warm and not girly enough.

Finally a sleeveless white blouse and a pink pleated skirt of very sensible length and sensible style and sensible pink sandals.

Better. Neither girly nor boy-ey.

It said nothing about me. It wasn't sexy, it wasn't tarty, it wasn't kawaii.

It was just…

Boring.

Dull, plain and sensible.

That was me.

Sensible.

Perfume. Too much? Too little?

Everything made me fret, made me nervous.

And, to my stupid shame and surprise I'd even chosen some decent underwear, avoiding the mundane white stuff, the ones starting to go grey and baggy with too many washes. Selecting pretty underwear, reasonably new, that matched the skirt. What did that imply?

Sheesh, you're tragic, it's just a guy asking you out swimming.

The doorbell rang.

_This is it. _

He hadn't said it was a date but I knew it was. I think he knew it was too. And I think he knew I knew it was. And I knew he knew how I was thinking.

So everybody knew.

Games people play. Round and round we go.

Even so, inside me there was a new feeling. A tingling thing. Expectation.

I took a deep breath.

I was nervous.

I opened the door.

"Hey!"

"Ohayo."

"Oh, my word, my pretty angel! You look great."

_Oh, here we go… _

"Thanks. You're looking pretty good too."

He wore long loose shorts down to his calves in an army green colour, red sneakers and a big baggy pale grey hooded top that zippered down the front, a red and black baseball cap. He had a small rucksack over one shoulder.

You know, the look suited him.

Late 20th century urban boy.

I don't think I can ever imagine him in a suit or wearing his school uniform smartly. Being neat just isn't him at all.

- - - oOo - - -

We caught the Tokyu-Toyoko train to a pool I know a little north of Jiyu-ga-Oka. On the train he was his usual self.

"I'll make sure you don't get any perverted boys attached to you!"

"I get the feeling that you're the most evil of all."

"My gorgeous body hidden under this shirt. I'm gonna show it to you. Oooh… Under the mid-summer sun this blinding, sparkling, smooth-as-porcelain gorgeous body of mine…"

"Ew – stop saying it in that creepy way."

It's a good water complex. It has a big ordinary pool where I can just swim and swim and be left alone and it has a play pool with a wave machine and a slide where all the kids and families go.

Needless to say we went in the play pool.

Ah, well, we were here for fun I guess, not to improve our swimming technique.

We did what teenagers do who don't know each other well. We messed about and laughed and played and splashed and I squealed and he tried to grab me but he didn't try too hard because if he had that would have been body contact and that is taboo isn't it? All these silly social conventions people observe until certain stages are passed.

It reminds me of a complex game with lots of rules.

Like chess.

He tried the romantic but pushy Asapin opening, a classic bold attack that has won him many games (so he says).

I played a cautious nervous Ryusaki defence, keeping my main pieces well back, allowing no opening for him to exploit. A solid unimaginative opening gambit.

He tried a bold move with his king's knight on the water slide, getting me to sit in front of him between his open legs but when we reached the end and went flying, all arms and hair and feet I recovered quickly castling away on my queen's side.

He tried sacrificing a couple of pawns but I still held back. The Ryusaki defence was a good solid one.

I've been practicing it for years.

I'm an expert.

More so than he thinks I expect.

We sat on the side, dangling our feet.

"So, explain to me," he said, a puzzled look on his face, "exactly what is that you're wearing?"

"This is…uh… you know, well, I think you'll be surprised. It's a swimsuit."

"Oh, is that what it is?"

He put a hand over his mouth and made big eyes in mock surprise.

"…I thought it might be some sort of army biological warfare outfit."

He looked at my front. I wasn't sure if I wanted that. Just yet.

"It's my racing suit. I can shave three seconds off a length in this."

"There's a lot of it isn't there?"

"Yes. And your problem is?"

I knew where this was going. I played along, seeing how bold he would get.

"It covers everything up."

It did. It was dark blue and made of sensibly heavy material. It had a very high neck, a high Y back and low legs that covered everything. It was a proper racing suit that held everything in. It was tight and held it all flat too. No cleavage, no bottom cheeks on show, no soft wobbly bits of flesh could get out and flap about and slow me down.

"You're very bold. Look at yourself before you have a go at others."

"These are swimming shorts. What do you expect me to wear?"

"You'd rather I wear something tiny and revealing right? A silly little bikini or something?"

"Ooh, yes! Hmm…"

He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs in perverted glee, making a disgusting breathing sound.

I had to laugh, he _was_ funny.

"You're just an ordinary perverted boy."

"Hm, and you love it."

"I do not! And anyway why should I wear something that shows everything when you're wearing the lower half of a tent? Next time, if I wear something else you'll have to wear briefs or something. If you're going to get a look then so am I."

"One of my thongs. You want to see me in all my glory? You won't be able to bear it, the temptation will be too great."

"To what? Throw up?"

"You're cruel."

"You're creepy."

"I'll buy you something, we'll go to the mall later."

"You will not. I don't want some useless thing that's just four little triangles of cloth held together by string."

"And goes transparent when wet? Perfect. I know just the thing!"

"You're sick. Stop it."

"I'm hungry. Let's get out. I know a great place to eat."

- - - oOo - - -

"Oh my word, this is really good."

"You like it?"

"Hm, it's fantastic."

We were at Shinjuku right in the heart of the city in one of the big LUMINE department stores that has a shushi bar. It was part of the huge Shinjuku Station complex. But this wasn't the shushi I know, this was just amazing. The best I'd ever tasted.

He'd said nothing about who was paying. I wanted to share the cost because if he paid that would in my mind indebt me to him. It's all a complex girl thing. But on the other hand I could see this was going to be expensive.

"Good. Eat whatever you like."

"This must cost so much."

"Is that a problem?"

"I…uh… I don't have much money."

"Don't worry. Onegai, Sakana, my treat."

"But…"

"No buts."

"You can't?"

"Yes I can. It's fun. You get the cinema tickets, okay?"

"Hm."

I nodded, my honour was saved.

And the sushi _was_ amazing.

"Tell me about yourself," I asked.

I realized I knew nothing about him. Not one thing.

"Why do I get the feeling you don't want to know my star sign?"

"Are you rich?"

"Define rich."

"I would never eat at a place like this. Rich people come here. Hence my question."

He shrugged.

"I must be rich then. Anyway talking about me is boring."

"No it's not. You'd like to talk about me I expect."

_Something to hide? _

"That's different. As a devious twisted evil boy it's my duty to find out everything about a girl. Where she lives…"

"You did that."

"…What sort of swimming costume she'd secretly like to expose herself in. The food she likes. What colour underwear she's wearing."

"Now look, I have limits and you're pushing your luck!"

"Pink."

"How dare you? You…pervert! You looked!"

"There!"

He pointed.

My bra strap was showing out from under the shoulder of the sleeveless blouse. I tucked it away prudishly.

"You're the one brazenly letting it all hang out!"

"Hm. I'm not impressed. There are limits, Asapin."

"And clearly I've not pushed you to them yet."

"You're being very bold. _Again_."

"If you were really annoyed you'd get up and leave."

He was right.

I was enjoying this.

Here I was, almost sixteen and never had a boyfriend.

Never even been out with a boy.

And certainly never done – anything.

Well, just the once. Against my will. But I pushed those thoughts away.

But yes, this was fun. A small eager part of me was wanting to see what sort of swimming costume he would choose. That would tell me a lot about him.

"What are your parents like?"

He didn't answer at once. He didn't come back with some witty, mucky retort.

_Oh. _

_Have I asked a bad question? _

"My dad and I don't get on. He never sees anything funny in life. I think a lot of what I'm like is a reaction to him. I tend to push him away."

"Oh. Gomen."

"Don't worry about it. I don't let it get to me anymore. Sometimes even real fathers and sons don't get on well. I've liked girls ever since I was little. I liked to hang out with girls and play around even in elementary school. My dad was upset by that because he was always so studious. My dad was so serious. He didn't have a shred of human kindness in him. I thought he was horrible for that. I hated him. And even if you're related, you can't help who you hate..."

_My brother. _

_I hate my brother. _

_"…if you're related, you can't help who you hate…" _

"…But being related does make it pretty tragic…"

_You're damn right there, boy. _

"…If dad and I are in the same room for too long we always end up fighting…"

_Fighting? That's the least of my worries. _

"…My mom just does whatever my dad says so I can't go to her. I hated being with them, so I decided to study, go on to high school and stay here when they moved away with his job.

"Now I'm happier. Only the luckiest kids can say that being with their families makes them happy. There are other people who can't stand it and are better off if they leave. But my parents are paying for the house and give me an allowance so I guess I'm not really on my own. I still rely on them. That's hypocritical don't you think?"

"Asapin?"

I looked at him. He was looking at me but in a funny, dreamy sort of way. He was looking at me but I didn't think he was seeing me.

_I want… _

_I want to give you a hug. _

_You seem… so lonely. _

_You seem… to be hurting. _

"Hm?"

"I… uh…"

The moment passed. The urge to reach out and hold him, comfort him went by. I watched it go and wondered if I'd missed some kind of chance.

I don't know, some kind of gateway into the rest of my life…

By not hugging him had I made a decision about him?

"I'm very sorry. About your family. It's a little like my own. In some ways."

"Well, I'm not going to pry. If you want to tell me that then you tell me in your own time."

"Hm. I will."

"Gomen. This is all getting a bit depressing."

"No, it's okay. But… You live alone?"

Alarm bells went off. _Don't go back to his place for coffee then._

"Hm. I like that, the freedom, the ability to do what I like, go where I want when I want. Have friends round."

_Girls you mean… _

"So what do you do – you obviously don't study hard?"

"This summer I've been down the beach a lot, body boarding. The babes love that. Working on my tan."

"So I see. It's very impressive."

"You like? Ah, finally a woman of taste. It's all over. I sunbath naked at home."

I choked and spat out a mouthful of tuna.

"Oh my God! Don't say perverted things like that!"

"What's wrong? It's a very private garden. Lots of trees. No-one can see in."

"That's not the point! I hardly know you. You don't go telling a girl stuff like that on a first date!"

"Oh, so this is a date is it?"

I went pink.

_Damn. _

"Uh… well… I guess."

"Good. That's nice. If there's a first date then there might be a second."

I looked at him.

He was good looking. Once you peeled aside the nonsense he was a nice guy.

Or if he was a pervert he was a good actor too. Kept it hidden.

I still wasn't sure which.

_Scaredy cat, scaredy cat, fears running round in circles… _

"It doesn't bother you that your grades are so bad?"

"Nope."

"What do you want to do after school?"

"Not sure. I'm a good dancer. I can sing. I like art. I can draw and paint. Not sure really. Something in the pop industry. Television. A manga artist. I have no idea really."

"You dance well?"

"Yup. I'll show you sometime. Anyway, there's a movie I want to catch. It starts at three, come on."

- - - oOo - - -

After the movie, during which he didn't touch me once, and didn't try _anything_,

_was I disappointed? _

we wandered down to Shibuya and went around the shops. As promised he took me to a swimwear department. I looked at some nice one piece suits but he came over with - well, what did I expect – it was a bikini of course, very skimpy and in a black and yellow wasp stripe something like an industrial warning sign. On the front of the briefs was written in English "Warning: Slippery When Wet."

"I can't wear that!"

"Let me buy it for you."

"No, that's rude."

Had he no shame? He was so brazen with it all, dancing about the place holding up girl's swimsuits. Not a trace of embarrassment at all. I imagined he'd be just the same in the underwear department. An image of him holding up a really flimsy bra or pair of panties and calling out my name so everyone could hear.

_"Hey Sakana, they've got some great thongs here!" _

Ugh. I shuddered. I was going pink just imagining it. I'd never known boys could be like this. They were all mucky and shy and greasy and had wandering hands didn't they?

Who was this guy?

All I knew was he was nice.

Mad as a hatter but very nice.

He would not take no for an answer.

"What size are you?"

"There you go again. You don't ask girls things like that."

He stood in front of me and stared at me. All down my front he looked.

I got embarrassed again.

"I think I need the medium top and the small bottom," he said without emotion. It was as if he were buying food.

_...A medium chicken please and a small bottle of soy sauce..._

The worrying thing was he was right. He was good at judging girls shapes and sizes.

That bothered me.

Although I don't know why.

Maybe he had known lots of girls?

Maybe he had bought lots of girls new swimsuits? And underwear? And taken them swimming and to swanky restaurants.

And movies.

So that didn't mean anything to me did it?

He not only bought me the wasp stripe bikini but a white one too. On the back of the briefs that one had a red NO ENTRY sign and on the front a green ONE WAY ONLY sign with a big arrow pointing upwards. He was just shockingly rude, but nice at the same time.

I'd probably never wear them, but at least he was happy.

- - - oOo - - -

It was late and I'd had a great day.

"I'll do you dinner."

"Oh that's okay, I'll eat at home. You've done enough for me."

"No, I insist."

I just let him get on with it. Fighting him was too tiring.

We took the train back to my neighbourhood and he went into a supermarket. He bought chicken breasts, red and green peppers, sweetcorn, mushrooms, spinach, water chestnuts, seaweed, bean sprouts, eggs, prawn paste, hoi sin sauce, beer.

"What are you doing?"

"Dinner. I'm cooking."

"Oh, Asapin, I'm sorry, I can't come to your house."

"That's okay, I'll come to yours. I'll cook."

"You can't cook! You're a boy."

He stood and looked at me with a big fat dejected pout on his face.

"And you know me very well of course. You know me well enough to know I can't cook. I mean I'm a guy, of course guys can't cook. All the best chefs in the world are women aren't they?"

"You're saying you can cook as well?"

"Watch me. If I can't cook I won't make you eat it."

We got home. He took over the kitchen, he poked his head in all my cupboards and grabbed a few things. He hummed to himself while he worked out what was where. He found our old wok I'd not seen used in years, not since mom had died. I sat on one of the barstools at the side, elbows on the surface, chin in hands and watched him.

He oiled and polished the wok, wiping away years of disuse.

"Your parents not around tonight?" he asked

"No. Not tonight."

_Not any night _

"You alright with that?"

"Yeah. I'm a good fast runner. You try anything, I can get down the hill to the police station in under two minutes."

After a few minutes I decided he did know what he was doing. He didn't follow a recipe for one thing, it all came from his head.

And I sat.

And watched him.

I decided after a while that I liked doing that.

He was good to watch. He moved nicely. He hummed while he worked.

And once he winked at me.

It was better than spending yet another night in alone watching TV.

Within thirty minutes he was done. He served up and we sat down at the table.

Sesame prawn toasts, spring rolls and deep fried seaweed to start.

Then chicken and sweetcorn soup.

Then a stir fry with peppers and mushrooms and some pork he'd found in my fridge, and egg fried rice.

And finally green Chinese tea.

A complete Chinese meal in half an hour.

We ate.

"Asapin, I've decided."

"What?"

"Gomen. You can cook."

He smiled at me.

"Arigato."

"In fact, you can cook well. It's very good."

He cracked open a can of beer and smiled again, wider.

He's got a nice smile and he uses it a lot.

_I only wish she would. _

_I bet her smile would be fantastic. _

_But she never shows it to me. _

_I wonder if there is anyone she does show it to? _

_I wonder what she's doing now? _

Asaba left quite late, it was probably about midnight. We'd sat in the library and watched some anime. And he sat near me on the sofa but studiously did not come close. He never touched me.

I don't know what I would have done if he'd slid on over and put an arm round me.

A sensible girl would have chided him and pushed him away.

Only I wasn't feeling remotely sensible that evening.

At the door he said a cheerful goodnight.

"I'll call you!"

"Sure. Bye! And arigato. I had a great day!"

He stopped at the gate, turned.

"Me too. Bye!"

No goodnight kiss though.

I had expected him to try his luck.

But no, nothing.

What a gentleman.

I closed the door and stood looking at it for a couple of minutes.

Did you really have a great day Asapin?

Wasn't I just a tiny bit boring?

And quiet?

And serious? And dressed like an old spinster?

What did he see in me?

Part of me had wanted him to kiss me.

A peck on the cheek would have done.

I thought hard.

Apart from a couple of fun accidental things in the pool and when we'd gone down the waterslide, he hadn't touched me at all. Not once.

I mean, was he interested or not?

- - - oOo - - -

And was I?

- - - oOo - - -

_28 – __29 May 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Eight and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	29. Seven Go Mad In Shibuya

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Twenty Nine – Seven Go Mad In Shibuya **

Before I went to bed I checked the answer-phone. I had seen its single red eye winking at me earlier. This was odd. Because no-one phones me. Unless it's my sis checking to see how I am (and she phones in the evening when she knows I'll be in) or the mother of the swimming club captain needing messenger jobs doing when he's ill. Someone had left a message. Curiouser and curiouser. It had come in the middle of the afternoon. I played it.

"Oh, hi, Sakana, it's Maho. Um... boy I hate these things. I feel like an idiot. Oh, well, Miyazawa phoned me just now. She wants to meet up with some of her friends at Shibuya tomorrow afternoon. And well… I hardly know her at all. So, I was thinking, would you like to come too? At least you and I will have someone we each know. Or something. And Miyazawa is cool with that too. We talked about it. Well, I'll meet you at Musashi-Kosugi station, the Tokyu-Touyoko Line exit. At eleven. Uh, if you can't make it here's my mobile number…"

I had frozen, hair brush in hand.

That voice.

Her voice.

It was dark and soft and creamy like melted chocolate.

I played the message again.

Then a third time.

It was wonderful to hear her. And she had doubt and uncertainty and embarrassment in her voice. I tried to imagine what her face would be like with those emotions moving across it and I couldn't.

I wrote her number down.

I didn't even have a mobile phone.

I mean you need friends first don't you? That would be the way to do it, then get a mobile so you could call them.

Maybe tomorrow I'd buy one.

How had she got my number?

Miyazawa had it, maybe she'd got it from her?

I saved the message to the phone's memory.

Like a sacred thing I would keep it for ever.

I would sit and replay it and cuddle it like a precious possession.

- - - oOo - - -

She had thought of me to call!

Me! Boring, quiet, shy, and-hopefully-soon-to-be-no-longer-spotty Ryusaki!

_At least you and I will have someone we each know._

Those words were like a beautiful healing medicine to me.

The beautiful warm life-giving spotlight of her attention had swung around and focused on me.

And like a ship in a storm seeing the beam of a lighthouse, I was saved.

Musashi-Kosugi was my nearest station. Did she know where I lived as well?

She had thought of me!

She had called me.

Maho had _me_ on her mind…

Me! Me, me, _me!_

I lay in bed and thought about that call, that voice, that person thinking of me.

I had a wonderful night's sleep. The best in years.

Even _his_ voice kept silent and didn't disturb me.

- - - oOo - - -

I didn't walk to the station next morning.

I floated gently, inches above the ground.

I was going to see Maho.

I would see _her_, wearing something other than school uniform!

What sort of clothes would she wear?

I had had a small tingle of nervous excitement inside me waiting for Asaba. But that was nothing compared to this feeling. This feeling fed me and quenched my thirst. It washed me and changed my clothes and brushed my hair and tucked me up in bed at night. This feeling was everything I could possibly need. I could _live_ on this feeling.

If Maho went around thinking about me… well, the world was just a beautiful place wasn't it?

I got to the station and floated along the platform. I was a few minutes early.

And there she was. I stopped a few yards away and just looked. She was wearing a purple sleeveless shirt and cream trousers and white sandals.

And she looked…

…beautiful.

I hadn't seen her for almost two days.

I'd not forgotten how she looked but seeing her again reminded me of all the lovely little details, all the shapes like the hollow under her jaw near her ear. The curve where her nose comes down to join the piece of skin above her upper lip. The very tops of her ears where they are not a proper curve but ever so slightly pointed. The beauty spot which was closer to her lower eyelid than I remembered. The slight red patches on her elbows where she rested them on her desk too much.

I'm sorry Asaba, you're fun to be with and some things you do to me are really nice but I'm just using you. I like you. But. I don't love you.

This is the person I love.

I know it is.

No-one else makes me feel like this.

No-one else makes me turn their answer-phone messages into shrines.

No-one else, when they tell me they have been thinking about me can fill me with sheer joy.

No-one else, just by sitting on a station platform bench, not knowing I'm nearby looking, can make me stop, rooted to the spot and send my heart palpitating like this, up in my throat with raw, eager, beautiful, soaring nerves.

No-one else, just by being close, can make my armpits damp.

I walk up to her. She detects movement and turns her head.

She looks at me.

I don't know how she can see me.

Because I'm not there.

I'm off in heaven.

"Glad you could make it."

"Hi. Thanks for phoning. It was good of you to think of me."

"No problem. I'm kind of nervous myself. I hardly know Miyazawa and I don't know any of her friends."

"Me neither."

A moment of silence.

I sat next to her.

The moment became an awkward minute.

And then an uncomfortable few minutes.

"Ah, do you change trains here or do you live nearby?" I ask her, not being able to dig up anything meaningful to say.

"Oh I live just up the way here. I walk to school."

"You do? Oh, we're neighbours almost. I live a little further down towards Kawasaki."

"How long does it take you to walk to school?" she asks me.

"On a good day, about forty minutes."

"That's quite a walk. It takes me about twenty five but I vary the route. I like to go past various parks and gardens and see the flowers."

"Do you? Do you know the Kitazaki Park? They have some great flower displays there."

"Yeah, I know it, it's only fifteen minutes from my house."

"Wow, I never knew we lived so close."

"You've got a long walk though. Why don't you get the bus?"

"Uh," I try to hide my embarrassment, "Well, actually my family doesn't have much money, so I can't afford to get the bus all the time."

"Oh, well, at least you can get fit walking all that way."

"Hm. I run sometimes just for the exercise. And shower at the pool when I get to school."

"Hey, this should be her train."

She stood up and I stayed seated just for the pleasure of watching her move, watching how her clothes hung on her.

There was a scrap of dark fluff on the back of her thigh, on her cream trousers. I wanted to reach out and brush it off, but I daren't.

Trapped in a nervous sea of indecision and awkwardness.

Touching her would give away my secret desires. She'd know.

"Hey, Maho!"

"Domo," the girl I loved called out.

I turned.

"Hey, Sakana, hello. You made it! That's great!"

I stood up.

"Yes, Maho phoned me yesterday and invited me along. Is that alright?"

"Of course. She said you might come. Wow, this'll be a huge party," she beamed at us both.

She was a funny girl. I always thought of her in school being either very helpful and nice or being in fights and running around like a nutcase. But here she was behaving like a child, full of energy and zeal. It was strange. She dressed like a child too in a red vest top dress with a high waistline under her bust. A dress a ten year old might wear.

"Maho, you've got some fluff on your leg. Here."

"What? Oh, thanks."

Miyazawa stepped past me and gently brushed her hand two or three times over the back of Maho's leg.

_See, Ryusaki? How easy it was? You can touch her without her thinking you're a pervert. _

_Yes, but she knows I'm a pervert. She knows I've got a crush on her. _

_Hey, she phoned you. She invited you. She can't be that bothered about it can she? _

_Yeah, fair point. That's a very fair point. _

_Silly, you could have done it for her. _

_And touched her leg… _

- - - oOo - - -

We caught the Tokyu-Toyoko train to Shibuya. All the way Miyazawa jabbered on and on about anything at all. She was a powerhouse of junk conversation. She was the verbal equivalent of a dozen loan offers landing in my mailbox every day.

I would have liked more time to talk with Maho but if my conversation was limited to how expensive busses were, and train stations and how long it took to walk to school maybe it was best if I kept quiet.

I was hardly going to impress her with my opinions on public transport.

At Shibuya Crossing we met three girls. I didn't know them, but over time I'd get to know them all quite well, to varying degrees and in varying ways, and with varying effects on my life.

"Hey, there she is. Hey Yukinon!"

"Hey! Did you wait long?"

"Nope – we just got here," the tallest of the three was doing the talking. I'd find out she was their group's natural leader, just as Miyazawa had gravitated to be ours.

"Oh, that's good. I'd promised to meet up with these guys before coming here. Remember I told you there were two girls I wanted to invite along? This is Ryusaki Sakana, I got to know her just after the mid-terms. And this is Izawa Maho. They're both in my class."

"Ohayo," I said, a little nervously.

_Hm, strangers. Shyness time. Cue Ryusaki to go all stupid and quiet and mousey. _

"Domo," Maho said in her deep cool voice.

How come she can sound twenty and sophisticated while I sound like a twelve year old klutz?

The tallest girl who had short boyish hair like mine, came forward with an angry scowl on her face.

An arm came out, a finger pointed.

"I know you! You're the one who got all the girls to give Yukinon the silent treatment! What are you doing here? Get lost!"

She rounded aggressively on Maho. She actually raised her fists. I shrunk back, thinking she would hit her. Maho drew back too although she managed to keep her composure.

"Hey, calm down!" Miyazawa broke in before it came to bloodshed, "Its okay. That's all over now."

"Well… I'm not convinced. Can we trust her?"

"Why am I here?" Maho muttered, looking glum and resigned to this being a really crap day.

"Maho, hey, it'll be okay," I actually reached out to her but my fingers stopped an inch or two from her forearm. Not daring to make contact. But she looked at me and seemed to relax.

"This is normal?" Maho asked Miyazawa.

"But it's a good chance," Miyazawa went on, encouraging her, "We need to make friends. It'll be good for us. And you Sakana. If we all start from square one, it'll be better if we have company."

"Damn. Fine," Maho looked pissed, "I really couldn't care less about it. But I owe you, so I'll keep you guys company."

I said nothing.

I was shocked.

She was acting so pissed off. Like she might walk out on us before we'd started.

"Okay!" beamed Miyazawa, slapping a hand on each of our shoulders, "Friendship! And now," she indicated the tall aggressive girl, "this is Tsubaki. Sakura Tsubaki."

The tall girl nodded a welcome.

She turned to the others.

"Sena-san, Sawada-san. Chiwas!"(1)

The other two girls each raised an arm,

"Chiwas! You can call us Rika and Aya."

"Mm, these two seem the most normal, you know?" I said to Maho.

She looked at me. And I think she smiled, just a tiny bit at the corners of her mouth.

Or maybe she just looked a little bit less pissed off.

"Shibahime's late," Sawada observed.

She got a pack of cigarettes from her bag and lit one. Miyazawa jumped at her and smacked it out of her mouth. She grabbed the pack and crushed it.

"Cigarettes are bad! They're bad! Bad I tell you!"

The other girl recoiled in horror, her face pale and shocked.

"Uh… I… Uh… understand. Alright, alright. Whoa. Please excuse me."

The smaller girl, Sena Rika, gushed at Miyazawa,

"I'm so glad you're strong and you can tell her off. Aya won't stop smoking, no matter how much I tell her."

The other two girls had black hair, Sawada Aya's being shorter than Maho's although it was cut in a complete non-style, being straight and lank and she seemed to care little for looking nice. Both she and Sakura were very thin and flat-chested but I noticed straight away that the girl Rika was easily the prettiest of the three. She had brown eyes, an oval face, a lovely smile and beautiful auburn hair gathered into two long ponytails. She wore a yellow sundress and she had great boobs, I mean whoppers. A lovely shape. What a lucky girl.

Sakura was something of a tomboy as well as a leader and a fighter. She wore old faded jeans and a pale green tee shirt. I noticed she was the only one without a handbag, which said a lot. Sawada wore a shapeless dark brown spaghetti strap shift dress. That and her plain hair painted a fairly clear picture for me. Only Sena Rika seemed to have any make up on and I could tell she was a girl who took pride in her appearance.

She seemed the happiest too, the most relaxed and carefree.

Even though she was the quietest and that day we didn't speak directly, I took an instant liking to her.

I wondered what they thought of me. I'd put on a tight red tee shirt that was stretchy and a bit daring for me, and another knee-length pleated skirt, a yellow one. The tee shirt didn't quite reach the waistband of the skirt. An inch of stomach showed. For me that was _very_ daring. When I was bigger I'd never have dared show any midriff. I have several of these skirts though and they're like a uniform for me. I just feel comfortable in them. I'd put a little make up on too, mostly to impress Maho and hide my dodgy skin.

"Yeah," I said, "Miyazawa's quite strong willed. She's much better to have as a friend than an enemy, isn't that right, Maho?"

"The normal ones like her," Maho responded, "are usually harder to deal with than the crazies."

"But still," Sakura mused, "Tsubasa's pretty late. She's been slacking off lately. Well," she glanced at her watch again, "I suppose there's no helping it."

"Sorry for the wait."

I turned at the sound of the voice.

- - - oOo - - -

How can I describe Shibahime Tsubasa's appearance? I've told you already what her personality and mind are like.

The origami is all there, only someone forgot to fold it.

A dash of soy paste short of a miso.

The samurai armour is complete, but it's resting on its stand.

But I can see how, despite the lack of intellectual dynamism, she would still be attractive to boys.

She was, not to mince words, bloody gorgeous. She was, I think, a real beauty; a classical beauty with a face so perfect, so pretty, so unbelievably cute that anime writers must use her as a model for every cute girl you ever see on TV.

And she was tiny. About four and a half feet, delightfully packaged. She was like a toy person, a fairy tale girl from a made up land.

She had big green eyes.

She had long red-brown hair that flowed like a waterfall to her waist.

And an oval face of clear white skin that just shouted out innocence.

It was in a way, a shame that behind that marvelous face, those bright beautiful eyes there was not much going on. But on the other hand that was also another part of her attractiveness. Had she been a rocket scientist that would have detracted from and not added to her cuteness.

The fact that she was basically stupid made you want to grab hold of her and hug her all the more. Protect her.

She was wearing blue and white sneakers, black shorts, a baggy white tee shirt that was way too big for her and a lilac and pink baseball cap. Around her middle was tied a red sweatshirt and she carried a cutsey pink make up box that looked like something a Barbie set would come in.

Miyazawa jumped at her.

"Oh wow! You're… You're so _kawaii_!"

She hugged her,

"Come to a clothing store with me! Big sis wants to dress you up! I'll find you all sorts of pretty clothes! I want you to show me how cute you can be! Ooooh…!"

Everyone else stood around watching, slightly worried by this odd display.

A week ago hadn't Shibahime been trying to beat the crap out of Miyazawa? Hadn't she been seen bawling her eyes out because Miyazawa had stolen her boyfriend?

Without looking at Maho I muttered,

"What were you saying about the normal ones?"

"Hm," she answered, deadpan, "Who have we chosen as a friend here? She's definitely borderline."

"Well, quite a gathering we have here," Sakura said, "Shall we go then?"

- - - oOo - - -

First stop, a karaoke bar. We took over a booth. Not my scene at all as I don't think I can sing.

But soon I found out that's not an issue.

In fact it seems the whole point is to not sing well and to sound as excruciatingly embarrassing as you can.

Miyazawa and Sakura couldn't sing either and they got right into it, wailing like cats. Some dire old monster song.

But they stuck with it and sang a half-dozen songs.

Then Sena and Shibahime had a go. They were both better. Both of them could actually sing. And they were both good to look at which helped. They did four or five songs. I could happily have watched Sena sing more.

"Alright," said Sakura, "We've had the fighters, and the cuties. Now it's the newbies turn. Ryusaki, Izawa, come on."

"Ah, no. I don't want to."

Oh, no. Embarrassment.

"No way. Get lost!"

Maho folded her arms.

"Come on now. We agreed. We're all in this together. Friendship! Yeah!"

Miyazawa was off again, she came at me and dragged me out of my seat, Sakura attacked Maho.

"Get up on that damned stage ya losers or we'll take the piss out of you all day!"

Sakura has this way with words. So ladylike.

Maho and I stood there. Loser #1 and Loser #2.

We were handed mikes.

The debut performance of an all-new girl duet. I hoped no talent spotters were around to sign up The Amazing Loser Sisters.

"There's the autocue, girls, it's easy, just sing the words as they come up!"

Miyazawa stepped back. Music started. I knew this tune, some jolly, happy, mindless silly J-Pop. But it was a cute song, the words were kind of fitting really. Something in me made me sing. I don't know why or how, I hate, hate, _hate _public attention like this. Nerves and shyness. I was probably rubbish but the words came into me and suddenly a shiver was tripping down my spine.

I've heard people say that sometimes in religious ceremonies when the monk is speaking he says words to a crowd of hundreds but the words fit their circumstances exactly. As though God was speaking specifically to them. Singling them out from those gathered around as though he has a message he wants only them to hear.

That's never happened to me.

_Ever_.

Until Saturday the 22nd of July, 1995.

In a Shibuya karaoke bar of all places.

I mean, that's not your usual place for a semi-religious experience is it?

Give me a mountain top, or a mist-shrouded shrine, or a view of Mount Fujiyama at dawn.

But it happened then.

And wow, I can tell you, I still have the goosebumps now. I shiver today thinking about that moment.

I sang. I just had to.

The words, at that moment, were written for me.

Hell, they could have been written _by_ me.

After a couple of lines I heard to my left another voice. I looked.

Maho was singing too.

And now she, to my great surprise really _could_ sing.

I think she might have even been better than Shibahime.

It was her voice, that deep cool sultry sound she makes. In song it came out that much stronger, that much darker, that much smoother.

And I have to say it - that much more erotic.

She was gorgeous. She sounded so sexy.

I was completely blown away.

Did she pick up on the words too?

Did they have a meaning for her as well?

If so, who was she singing for?

"What is it that you're looking for?  
Is it something that's hard to find?  
And you looked in your bag and your desk…  
…but you cannot find it.

Do you still intend to keep on looking?  
Wouldn't you want to dance with me instead?  
Wouldn't you want to…  
Wouldn't you want to…  
…go off into a dream?

…crawling around and crawling around…  
What in the world could you be looking for?  
When you stop looking…  
…its often the case that you find it.  
Let's dance.

Wouldn't you want to…  
Wouldn't you want to…  
…go off into a dream?"

"Sagashi mono wan nan desu ka  
Mitsukenikui mono desu ka  
Kaban no naka mo tsukue no naka mo  
Sagashita keredo mitsukaranai noni

Madamada sagasu ki desu ka  
Sore yori boku to odorimasen ka  
Yume no naka e… Yume no naka e…  
Ittemitai to omoimasen ka…

Ooh, ooh, oooooohhh…  
Ooh, ooh, oooooohhh…

(we _whoo-hood_ like two owls on crack)

…Haitsukubatta haitsukubatte  
Ittai nani o sagashiteiru no ka  
Sagasu no o yameta toki  
Mitsukaru koto mo yoku aru hanashi de  
Odorimashou

Yume no naka e... Yume no naka e...  
Ittemitai to omoimasen ka."

It was a great tune, quick, catchy and the words sent me somewhere new.

Like a religious experience it came. The words spoke to me, talked to me about my current circumstances, my struggle to find love and friendship and self-worth and a place to rest.

I realized I was dancing, just a swing of the hips and a leg one way then the other leg the other way. Raise my arms, clap.

I couldn't dance.

Never had.

Not one step.

But that day I danced.

Dunno what it was.

Joy, maybe?

The others were watching and clapping and wiggling in their seats and singing along.

I looked at Maho. Her eyes were shut. She knew the words.

She was really going for it.

I went for it too. I lifted my left arm and laid the hand on her shoulder. She glanced at me, transferred her mike to her other hand and put her right hand on my shoulder.

Where her bare arm pressed to mine I felt electric shocks run into me.

The warmth from her skin, the pressing contact of her muscles…

And connected, we danced.

"Wouldn't you want to dance with me instead?  
Wouldn't you want to…  
Wouldn't you want to…  
…go off into a dream?

Ooh, ooh, oooooohhh…  
Ooh, ooh, oooooohhh…"

And seeing her enjoying herself sent me further.

Is this what love is like?

When you see a person so happy that them going makes you even happier?

And so the two of you feed off each other, and grow off each other?

Is it like this?

If it isn't I like this anyway.

It feels good.

Being near her and seeing her happy.

And touching her.

And being touched.

It makes me happy.

_Maho. _

_Be happy. _

I was crying.

I can't explain it.

Suddenly it happened.

A great surge of emotion burst into me.

I sang a few more lines with tears streaming down my face.

Happiness and sorrow at the same time.

That tune. Those words. That heavenly girl beside me. The whole situation. The contact of her skin. The others cheering me on. Needing a place to rest. My past. My loneliness. The Incident. My aching heart. Being in love. A hopeless love. My friends. Having friends. I'd never had friends before. Never...

What a difference from a few months ago.

I stopped singing and simply broke down right there on the stage.

I sat down heavily and sobbed.

Miyazawa came up and squatted next to me. An arm came around me.

Someone else was on the other side.

"Sakana, what is it?"

"Gomen, gomen," was all I could blurt out.

To my right was a red dress, Miyazawa. She was hugging me. To my left was a purple and black shape and a smell I craved, a scent that every day is driving me mad. Arpegè.

I lunged to my left and hugged the scent of Arpegè. The Arpegè hugged back.

"What's the matter with her?" someone was saying.

"Dunno. She was fine a minute ago."

"Time of the month maybe?"

"No idea."

"Get her to a seat. Is there some water?"

Someone tried to move me but I clung tighter.

"No. Onegai. Just a minute. Gomen…"

I held on tight to the smell of Arpegè.

Pressed my face deep into it.

Someone was stroking my back, my shoulders.

My sobs got even stronger and great heaving sawing convulsions wracked my chest.

I was so unhappy.

And at the same time I'd never been so happy in my life.

For a few moments Maho was a rock.

_Save me… _

_Save me from drowning. _

I clung to my rock.

- - - oOo - - -

A few minutes later.

Calmer.

But still aching…

…still confused.

I was sat on the bench in the karaoke booth. Staring at my lap. People were all around me, looking concerned. My make-up was ruined. Someone wiped it off for me, cleaned me up.

"Gomen, gomen," was all I could say for several minutes, then "Guys, thanks. I… I don't know what happened. I've been through some funny times recently. But… I think mostly it's having friends. I've never had friends before, ever. You're all really… You know, kind to me."

Miyazawa hugged me some more and Maho put her hand on my other shoulder.

"Maho…"

"Hm?"

"Can we all have a hug? Us three?"

"Sure."

We did.

Really I wanted it to be just her, but I hadn't the guts to ask for that.

Minutes passed and I calmed down.

I saw Maho looking at me in a strange way.

She looked concerned and yet… there was a sort of helplessness there too.

She looked as though she wanted to help, but couldn't. As though something was holding her back.

- - - oOo - - -

Slowly I pulled myself together.

The moment passed.

The mood faded and recovered.

All readings nominal captain.

We went around some stores and I bought myself a mobile phone. I wanted to start putting people's numbers in it but it needed charging up. Bummer.

I had to content myself with writing them down in my notebook for now. I ended the day with five numbers written down. I didn't bother with Shibahime's, there didn't seem much point.

The top number was Maho's.

I doodled some little hearts around it.

In one department store Sakura and Sawada began teasing Shibahime.

"Tsubasa, you like Totoro, right?"

"Hm! Totoro…"

"Right! Totoro. A big Totoro doll just went walking that way."

"What! A _big_ Totoro?! Really?! Yeah! For real?"

"It was really huge!"

"D'ya wanna go see it?"

"Oh, yeah, wanna see," you could actually see the little girl bouncing up and down in excitement.

"Then you'd better hurry, we'll lose sight of it."

The three of them ran off down the store, customers frowning at them, Tsubasa leading in her eagerness. After a short distance the two taller girls peeled off and dropped back then ran back to us.

"Back!" hissed Sakura, "Get back, behind those shelves!"

We all hid.

It was quiet for a minute.

"She's noticed. She's coming back."

Sniggering and giggling.

"Hey you!" Shibahime shouted.

"Hey, she's really pissed!" Sakura and Sawada were laughing, gagging, trying to hold it in. Shibahime came around the shelves looking grumpy.

"Hey guys," Sena chided, "That's really mean!"

The dwarf princess stood there, hands on hips looking seriously pissed off.

"You guys suck," she pouted.

Even angry she was gorgeous. Even without a brain I could easily see why these girls loved her.

"Is this friendship?" Maho asked me.

"It is, Jim, but not as we know it."

There was a small sound beside me. I turned. Maho had a hand over her mouth.

But her eyes.

They sparkled with something, something I'd never seen before.

"Are you laughing?"

"No, not really. That was a little funny though."

Inwardly I beamed.

I had made Maho laugh.

In my imagination I hugged myself.

- - - oOo - - -

We went to a coffee bar and the girls bought Shibahime a huge ice cream sundae as an apology. It was as big as her head. The cute girl sat there and set to demolishing it, oblivious to the world around her.

The rest of us had tea, or cokes or whatever.

Sakura took her tea spoon and dipping it in Shibahime's sundae fed her. Sawada did the same and the small girl slurped away on three different spoons. Miyazawa picked up her fork and cutting a slice of her sticky cake offered that to the pretty girl. She turned and wolfed that down too.

"Iced tea, Tsubasa?"

"Hn, yeah!"

A glass was put to her slips.

"Some of mine?"

"Yeah, please, Aya!"

The feeding and drinking went on, more and more junk was poured and shoveled into the girl. It was weird, like some surreal movie. Shibahime just wouldn't say no to any of the attention she was given yet she went redder and redder and began to gasp and choke. Suddenly.

"Nyaaaaah!" she pushed people away and tried to lift the table.

"Yeah! Tsubasa's lost it!"

"Whoa, scaaaaary!"

"Come on! Stop it! You'll get us thrown out!"

Sena played at being sensible as usual.

"Actually I might just leave now," Maho muttered to herself.

Miyazawa turned to Maho and I.

"I think I'm beginning to figure out the relationships between these guys. Tsubaki and Aya are just evil. Tsubasa is their plaything, like a wind-up toy and Rika, she's frustrated. Tries to play mom."

Maho and I exchanged a glance.

There was friendship. And there was friendship.

What we both wanted to know was, was this friendship?

Or something nuttier?

Something borderline.

Something "get thrown out of stores and coffee bars and get arrested" borderline?

Maho sat quietly, she looked at me over the rim of her teacup and drank, trying to generate a small corner of serenity at her end of the table.

She was wisely keeping quiet. Through choice I assumed.

I was keeping quiet through good old fashioned fear.

I nursed my skinny latte.

"You four went to the same middle school, right?" Miyazawa asked.

"That's right," Sakura answered, "We're from Hatadai Middle School."

Miyazawa stuck her hand up.

"South Shirakawa Middle School."

Maho spoke quietly into her tea cup.

"Horikawa Western Middle School."

My turn.

"Uh, Suginomiya Nishigawa Middle School in Tama New Town."

"Really?" Maho looked up from her tea, "That's a long way away."

"Hm, it's where I come from originally. My dad sent me there because he knew the head teacher from way back."

Maho said nothing but continued to look at me.

Which was fine by me.

"How did you all meet?" Miyazawa was asking the others.

"Tsubasa and I have known each other since kindergarten," Sakura replied.

"Rika and I are neighbours," Sawada said, "so we've been friends since we were kids."

"Tsubasa was really shy even back then," Sakura continued, "I went up to her one day because she was all alone and cute and she clung onto me and wouldn't let go. Since she was always hanging around me, none of the other cute girls would play with me. My school life was completely ruined because of her."

"Tsubaki," Miyazawa asked, "you really like pretty girls don't you?"

She turned to me and whispered,

"Who does that remind me of?"

Sakura was speaking again.

"But I feel honoured to have met such a cute girl in high school Yukinon. We should become good friends, heh heh heh heh…" her chuckle was a bit creepy.

A light went on in Miyazawa's face.

"She really _is_ like him!" she said quietly to me again, "She's just like that creepy guy I know all too well…"

"Asaba!" I offered, seeing the connection.

It was odd. I saw it now, Asaba loved to be surrounded by pretty girls, to be distracted by them constantly. And this girl did too. I looked at her again and she sat there grinning easily, relaxed among friends, twirling her drink about, the ice clinking. Hm, yes, now I looked closer… boyish hair, boyish body, boyish clothes, boyish language, no make up, likes pretty girls… Was she gay too?

I sat and wondered. Miyazawa just thought it was amusing in a creepy way but I was bothered by it.

I don't know why.

I mean if she _is_ that's no reason why she might suddenly jump on me is it? It's not as though her being lezzy gives her the power to read my thoughts or something.

Does it?

And I'm not sure anyway, so I can't say anything.

Hm, I sighed, it's all very complex this growing up stuff, these friendships and relationships. Trying to work people out is like stumbling about in a cellar blindfolded and gagged. You can't say anything in case you misread the situation and make an embarrassing mistake.

"The two of us…" Sena was saying,

"…have been together since we were babies," Aya continued the sentence, "We're always together."

"That's great," Miyazawa offered.

"I was always naughty when I was a kid. I'd sneak out of kindergarten and drag Rika with me. But she was always the one to get caught and yelled at. I'd play crazy dangerous games like haul her up a fence on a rope. And _she_ would get told off for doing dangerous things. Once I made a real mess of my room. I knew mother would be angry but I didn't care. But Rika was worried about it and spent ages clearing up all the books and putting them back on the shelves. But they weren't in the order I liked so I shouted at her. I hated going to movies alone so I would always bring Rika along. But when she wanted to go see movies she liked I wouldn't go. I was always finding ways to get what I wanted at Rika's expense."

"Heh heh, it really doesn't bother me," the pretty brunette chuckled, "because Aya is such a good writer. When we were younger I would tell her she was amazing, and it was great she'd won so many awards and I was so glad I could be her friend."

"She's always so happy for me! How can she be happy for me when I've treated her so badly? Is she a saint? If I were in her shoes I definitely wouldn't congratulate someone like me! I'd be green with envy!"

"S…Stop it already!"

"I'm not the kind of person you should be complimenting!" Sawada warned her, in mock annoyance, "Every time you compliment me like that, I realize just how bad a person I am!"

"But Aya is a really great writer. She got the "Best New Junior Writer" award and her story was published in a book."

"What?" Miyazawa stood up, "A story? In a book? The kind you buy at a bookstore? You're an author? Wow, a real pro. You're a real author. I'm actually sitting with a real author!"

"Its no big deal, just some short stories and stuff. I'm a pro only in the strictest sense of the word. There are lots of people like that."

"Yeah," Sena went on, "but that's pretty cool, especially for a high schooler. You have a lot of talent Aya, You're going to be huge! I'll be able to say I knew you when…"

"I told you to stop complimenting me like that!"

Sakura broke in.

"Since it's summer vacation you have more time to write, right?"

"Yeah, I'm working on a novel."

"Wow…" Miyazawa made an awed sound.

"It's not all that special. Everyone can do something. Tsubaki became a first string player when she joined the volleyball club. And Rika's great at sewing and dressmaking. I can't believe how beautiful some of the things she makes are. It might take months, it might take years but everyone has a talent that eventually comes out."

This seemed to affect Miyazawa. I watched her. She spoke quietly and seemed puzzled by something.

"That's great! You all have something you want to do."

"I never really thought about it before," Sawada the writer offered, in an off-hand way.

"I'm jealous," Miyazawa said, looking sulky, "All I can do is study."

"But even that's enough to make us all jealous," Sakura encouraged her, "that's a talent in itself."

Tsubasa sat munching away. They all looked at her… no one commented. She was in a cosy little world of her own. Her and her sundae. As happy as a cow in a field.

I thought that for Tsubasa life would be easy, really simple. Looking like that she would have no trouble meeting a good looking kind guy and getting married and not having to worry about a thing.

"What about you Ryusaki? You swim don't you?" Sakura asked.

"Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Well everyone knows it. You're the best freshman swimmer in the school. You're better than many of the 11th and 12th graders. People talk about you."

"They do?"

"You didn't know?"

"No. Since when?"

"Since you swam sixty lengths in two hours a while back. And before then."

"It was fifty eight. And I was shattered."

"Not according to what I heard. So, you should try for Olympic standard."

I sat there, wondering. Was I that good? I had no idea. I just swam because I liked to.

And so I could escape from the people - the world - around me.

That made me feel odd. Here I was just doing this as an escape route yet other people saw that it had value.

I looked across the table at Maho. She looked back, still hiding behind her tea cup.

Very solemnly she gave me a brief nod.

Just the one.

- - - oOo - - -

"Well I guess this is where we say goodbye."

We were outside at the Crossing again.

"We'll all meet up again soon yeah?" Miyazawa asked.

"Right!"

"Ryusaki, are you okay now?"

"Hm."

"You watch it, yeah? Be careful with that karaoke business, its dangerous stuff!"

"Hm, right…"

And then I had to say something. Something really important.

"Uh, look everyone…um… I just want to say sorry for earlier. I get emotional a lot these days. I'm having a bit of a funny time. At the moment. And well… gomen. I don't like speaking in front of people but. Well, I just wanted to say that today. Well, I didn't say much and you must all think me rather boring but… I did have a really good time. You know, I think this is probably the best day I've ever had. You see… oh, gomen, gomen… I'm going to start leaking again. You see I've never had friends before. Not one. Ever… and today was… well it was great. Arigato…"

My eyes were wet. I hung my head.

There was silence for a moment and then a hand came onto my shoulder. And another on the other side. And a third on my back. And then…

"C'mon guys! Group hug on Ryusaki!"

"Yay!"

People pressed all around me, hands tousled my hair, someone patted my back and then I was being squeezed from all sides, all kinds of pressure and smells.

And then I went again, more tears.

Damn, I'm useless.

"Hey, Ryusaki-chan, you wanna meet with us in town or come to our houses to study or just chill out, well you have our numbers. You can call any time, yeah?"

I sniffed back up a big runny string of snot and nodded.

"Yeah. You guys are really nice."

"No problem. Friends yeah?"

"Yeah."

The group opened out. Miyazawa and Maho had their hands on my shoulders.

Tsubasa suddenly turned to Miyazawa and hugged her.

"Huh? What's wrong Tsubasa?"

"My turn now. Don't want to go home yet."

"Okay. Do you want to hang out a little more?"

Sakura spoke up.

"Aww, Yukinon, you're too kind! Looks like Tsubasa's taken a liking to you! But I'm telling you, once she hugs you like that, it's all over. She'll never let go! In other words, you have a big problem!"

"We don't want her to do that to us, so we'll be going now," said Sawada, smirking wickedly.

"See ya later!"

"Bye!"

"Keep in touch!"

"Okay, c'mon Tsubasa, let's walk," Miyazawa said.

We walked.

"You okay?" Maho asked me.

I nodded. I wasn't but I didn't want to go into details right now.

Shibahime walked in front of us three. I was in the middle a little behind the other two. After a couple of minutes companionable silence, Miyazawa spoke.

"Being good at studying isn't everything. Everyone has different things they're good at. Its hopeless, I'm the only one who doesn't know what I want to do with my life."

"That's unlike you," Maho commented, "Does it worry you?"

"It's just that… I've realized my life has been lacking something. While I was doing nothing but studying, everyone else found other things they enjoyed doing and other goals they wanted to reach. Their lives have purpose. I never realised it before. I feel like I've been left behind."

"So you can start looking for your purpose now. It's good that you've realized there's more to life than studying. It's hardly too late for you. And besides, you're not alone. I want to make some changes too. Maybe we can take this project on together."

I had never heard Maho talk like this. She was being warm and supportive. Where did this Maho come from?

She turned to me.

"What about you Sakana? Are you in?"

"I don't know what it is that I'm in or out of. I thought I was useless at everything. I know I am. Suddenly people back there say I'm a great swimmer. But it doesn't feel like it. Swimming's just an escape route, something to do so I don't have to face the world."

"You know, I think that's true of everyone to some degree. We all have things we do so that while we're doing them we can have an excuse not to face the world."

She stopped walking and looked at me. I stopped too.

"Do you?" I asked.

"Maybe you've seen the wall I've put up already. A wall of competitive fighting I hide behind because I don't want people to see the real me."

"Uh…" said Miyazawa, "Tsubasa's gone on ahead. Where is she? I'm gonna go get her."

"Okay. We'll catch you up," Maho called after her.

She turned back to me. Suddenly she seemed a lot closer and a lot warmer. There was something about her. A caring thing. I didn't know how to interpret this.

My heart was bumping. I had imagined a conversation like this so many times.

Now it was finally happening I couldn't handle it.

Too intense.

This was…

…too much.

…too soon.

"If you do it well, your swimming," she went on, "you should nurture it. Focus on it. As Sakura-san said, you'll be perfectly placed in five years time for the 2000 Olympics. You'll be 21. In top form. Bang on the nail."

"Don't be silly. I'm not that good."

"Not now maybe, but in five years time. If you try to reach out…"

"I can't do it alone."

"Well that's what I'm here for. And Miyazawa. Friends. We'll help and encourage you."

"What about you? You know… the real you?"

"Well," she paused and looked thoughtful, "I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm not in the top grade academically. I can deal with that now. A certain someone helped me to get my head straight over that."

She looked at me.

"Did they?"

"Yes. They did. And I never said thank you."

"Oh, well."

"So. Arigato. You were great."

"Uh…"

And then it happened. I stood there like an idiot, doing nothing. And she moved. She lifted her arms and put them round me and gave me a big tight squeeze. It wasn't a hug, not a loving gentle thing, but very tight. She was strong. There was lots of energy in her body, in her muscles.

There was just lots of her, all round me.

I felt…

…enclosed. Comforted.

I felt.

Wanted.

Valued.

Appreciated.

Thanked.

My arms were pinned to my sides, but her front pressed tight to my front and I felt her.

My nose breathed in her scent and for a moment her hair tickled my face.

She let go. Left her hands resting on my shoulders. She gave me a gentle shake.

"Sakana, whatever it is that's hurting. What's making you cry a lot. You wanna talk about it? Well, you know where I am. Just call me. Now, come on. Let's go find that crazy dwarf air-head."

I moved. But I wasn't with it at all. I was drifting dreamlike.

Feeling the warmth and strength of her.

Remembering her smell.

The crispness of her shirt collar against my jaw.

Her words.

I wiped away a tear.

"Maho?"

She turned back, "Hm?"

"Do you know that was the first hug anyone has given me in… oh, I don't know how long… eight years at least. Half my life."

"But you've had loads of hugs today. Today's been Hug a Ryusaki Day."

"No, the karaoke thing and then just now when you all did. That was me doing that mostly. But you… just then… you're the first person to do that to me for such a long time."

"You need to get into this friends thing much more than me then."

"Yeah. I guess I'll make that my plan."

"Sounds good. Come out of your shell more, hm?"

"Hm. Arigato. I'm glad it was you who hugged me. Um… I like you a lot."

"No problem. Dunno why you like me, I'm no-one special."

_Yes you are, yes you are, yes you are, oh yes you are… _

"Oh. Anyway, arigato."

"No sweat. Now let's go find Miyazawa."

I breathed in deeply and let out a huge sigh.

Friends.

Even if she never loved me and even if I never had the guts to tell her how I felt, being friends would be good.

I thought of Shibahime though, and how her world had been turned upside down when she'd had Arima as a friend only to discover later that someone had taken him from her.

How would I feel if that happened to me and Maho?

I didn't dwell on it. I didn't want to.

I let that quick fierce hug satisfy me for all the rest of that long and very strange day.

And it wasn't over yet.

In fact the strangest part, the worst part, and the best part, was just beginning.

- - - oOo - - -

_29 __May - 2 June 2007_

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum. This particular greeting has an interesting background. _

_For author notes about Chapter Twenty Nine, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	30. That's A Huge Bag Tsubasa!

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty – That's A Huge Bag Tsubasa!**

"_Momma's got a brand new bag."_

- Traditional blues soul lyric

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Whoa, that's a huge bag. What are you carrying around in there Tsubasa?"

We had caught up with Miyazawa and Shibahime in the locker area at the station. The short girl was pulling a huge sports bag out of a locker. It was nearly as big as her.

"I'm running away," she said, matter of factly.

"Huh?"

We walked up to them.

"She's what?" Maho asked.

"I'm running away from home."

"Okay, good. Well, we'll see you around Miyazawa."

"No you don't!" she exploded, "We're friends now. We're all in this together!"

Maho and I both made startled and pissed off exaggerated anime faces which told the people watching us that _shit, we're stuck with this embarrassingly improbable plotline too._

Shibahime was stood, the big bag on the floor in front of her, staring down at it.

"It's always been just me and my dad. But his new girlfriend's been coming to our house lately. The way she pretends to be my mom to get close to me… it makes me sick!"

She kicked the bag.

"Dad said he wants to marry her. He's never talked about getting married before, but now he seems serious."

Miyazawa and I exchanged glances.

"She's gotten serious all of a sudden…" she said.

"…I've never seen her talk so much before," added Maho.

"My dad's so gullible! I'll bet she talked him into it!" Shibahime whined.

The girl turned and kicked the locker, kicking it and kicking it.

"Aaargh! I'm not going to accept her! I hate her! Plus, she's got a son _my age_! She has no decency! What kind of woman does something like this?!"

She paused. With a faint squeal the dented locker door swung slowly back open.

"_That's_ why I'm leaving. That'll wake my dad up. I'm fighting to get him back from that woman!"

"But," asked Miyazawa, clearly shocked, "who are you going to live with?"

As soon as the words came out of Miyazawa's mouth I knew they were exactly the wrong words to say. Almost the perfect wrong combination of letters and syllables. Right here and right now these were not the thoughts you should go sharing out loud. Shibahime turned to her and with a defiant glare in her eye pointed at her face.

"You!" she spat.

"Well," said Maho, folding her arms in that way she has, her voice calm and quiet and playing the understatement card beautifully, "Friendship is a wonderful thing, but…"

- - - oOo - - -

_31 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	31. Water Spilt Will Not Return To The Bowl

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty One – Water Spilled Will Not Return To The Bowl **

"_The word we use for "she" literally means "the woman far away". To us, women will always be on a distant shore. Basically, there's a river dividing men and women, deeper and wider than the ocean."_

- Ryoji Kaji, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Ep.18

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I've had a lot to deal with lately. I hope I can work through some things with you. Will you help me? My father wants to get remarried. I love him a lot. I don't want him to remarry. I'm all mixed up right now. When I was in hospital Arima got a girlfriend. Everything is going bad for me right now. I don't want to go home. I don't like it there now."

Shibahime was muttering and cursing and spewing out this kind of stuff all the way back on the train.

She wasn't talking to us, she was talking to the world, just letting it all come out.

Maho and I sat opposite her silently staring at our knees.

Miyazawa from time to time patted the smaller girl's back.

We got off two or three stops before mine and Maho's stop. We were somewhere near Jiyu-ga-Oka which I knew was an up-market suburb. I knew Miyazawa's family had money, I wondered what kind of house she lived in.

I was surprised. It was quite a modest place, small in fact and in a very ordinary street. Just like twenty million other small well kept suburban Japanese homes.

I'd misjudged her.

Or rather she'd misled me.

Right from the early days of the semester when she was still wearing her perfect student mask she'd given the impression of coming from a rich family.

Top marks to you for that my girl, you fooled even me.

We all stood around in the main room and Shibahime reiterated her tale of woe again for Miyazawa's parents' benefit.

I could see this was going nowhere.

The girl wasn't serious about running away.

If you're serious you pack a bag and go.

You don't run off to a friend's house and try to sneak in and get a room off them.

So this girl wasn't running away.

This was a cry for attention.

Well, she had everyone's attention, all right.

So now what?

Miyazawa phoned Sakura, that's what.

We waited an hour while the fighter/tomboy/lesbian (I still couldn't classify her) came over on the train.

And that proved to be a big fat waste of everyone's time.

Sakura just made things worse.

She caused a huge blazing row and within five minutes of her coming in the door she and Shibahime were just hurling abuse at each other.

Really, the last time I'd heard language like this was watching the 12th grade boys soccer final. The air was blue and we were all cowering on one side of the room.

Maho actually had her head in her hands muttering things like:

"I want to go home."

It turned out Sakura had phoned Shibahime's father and he was on his way over.

This just made the foaming mad dwarf princess even madder.

Great.

A family row now.

"Maho, I'm going to go down the corner shop and get some popcorn and soda. Save me a good seat."

Bless her, she even smiled at that. It was worth enduring that supremely embarrassing evening just to see that smile.

That was twice.

Twice in one day.

Hey, maybe I was getting good at this.

Such nice smiles too. Her face lit up and she became a different person when that happened.

I made a bet with myself: I'd try for the 2000 Olympics and at the same time make sure I made Maho smile at least once every time we met.

Yeah, that was a plan that could inspire me to do great things.

Sakura went home. It was dark now and Miyazawa offered to walk her to the station.

"I'll come with you," I said.

"It's okay."

"No, you'll be walking back alone. I'll come."

"Okay. Arigato."

"Don't forget my popcorn," Maho said as we got our shoes on.

"What?" Miyazawa asked me.

"Oh, nothing. Just a joke."

"Maho? Joking? Is she feeling alright?"

"I know. Peculiar isn't it? Must be a friendship side effect."

"Mm, nasty."

"Yeah, Maho joking is quite a severe reaction."

Miyazawa grinned.

- - - oOo - - -

Darkness and warmth.

Heat even.

Baking up off the sidewalks and concrete danchi walls.

The heat of a summer night, still some light in the western sky.

It was so warm none of us wore coats.

Above us the white street lamps, and the power poles festooned with telephone and electric lines, buzzing and sizzling. Stars of a thousand anime TV shows where the kids walk the streets at night looking for the bad guys / evil mastermind / transformers / boy mecha pilot / cat girl / aliens / busty teen girl runaway heroine in ridiculously short flippy skirt flashing her panties (delete as applicable).

The traffic lights sang their silent song of red and amber and green, the green tone being almost blue. Funny, I'd never noticed that before.

Green and blue.

Like her eyes.

From open apartment windows came the pale flicker of TV screens, the thumping music of lost high schoolers, the shouted arguing of lost parents and the wailing cries of lost lovers.

Everybody's lost.

Nobody has a clue.

No exception here either.

In the distance the trains rumbled and groaned and clattered.

Adding their own comments about the world.

If I could write I'd tell you how almost poetic that walk was that night across an ordinary Tokyo suburb in the company of two ordinary sixteen year old girls, each of us wrapped up in our thoughts of the "_what next_" of our stumbling gawky girlish lives.

I expect Sawada-san could write about it.

Maybe she will.

"Sorry for making you come all the way here," Miyazawa apologized.

"Oh, she really pisses me off!" Sakura barked, "Sometimes she makes me want to hang her upside down and whip her."

"Uh…oh, S&M… a world beyond me," I heard Miyazawa mutter under her breath.

_Glad to hear it. _

Sakura calmed down and talked, we listened. She spoke as though alone, talked to the paving slabs at her feet. Each one receiving just a word, a couple of words before the girl walked on. A trail of her words dropped behind her across a town.

"Well, I can understand how she feels," she went on, "Her family situation's pretty complicated. Her mother died in childbirth. So her father always spoiled her. But he's also a workaholic and had to have others look after her. So that's just how she grew up.

"Even when I first met her in kindergarten she wouldn't say anything if she was upset. She'd just go into a corner and sulk. She never learned how to express her emotions. And even though she gets along pretty well with her dad… she hates the thought of her dad marrying again.

"And she doesn't know how to talk with him about it. I've always had my family around so I can only imagine how she feels. When someone doesn't have something that other people take for granted, they don't know what to do with those emotions. This whole situation is just so… tough."

_Hm…agreed. But don't try this at home kids… _

Miyazawa was looking down and I saw an expression of understanding come over her. It was like she was having a private revelation about something.

That expression bothered me somehow.

We walked in silence for a while, just the trains and the power poles and the TVs singing.

We reached the station. We stood around, each of us a private island of thoughts, the electric lights buzzing overhead. Sakura spoke again.

"I don't think I've ever seen Tsubasa smile from the bottom of her heart. I hope that everything works out. I hope that she can be happy. I bet, when she smiles from the bottom of her heart, she'll be really cute."

_Maho too… _

"Well, thanks for seeing me off guys. And sorry for troubling you. Take care of that little monkey for me."

"Sure," Miyazawa assured her.

- - - oOo - - -

We were walking back. Miyazawa spoke.

"You know what Tsubasa said to me when we were fighting… when she was angry at me over Arima. She said to me _What's with you? You don't know __anything__ about Arima!_ Well, of course I _thought_ I knew some things about him. Hm. I realize now… Arima told me he had an early childhood lacking love and so he could relate to Tsubasa. He understood her feelings. That's why he thought of her as a little sister. Back then Arima couldn't handle a romantic relationship with anyone. Because his heart was too set on burying his bad memories and becoming a perfect person. No-one could catch Arima's eye. I've wondered what made Tsubasa so special to him. Now I think it's because somewhere in his heart he realized that they're the same. I've seen them talking a few times. He puts his hand on the top of her head and she grins up at him like a puppy. They do look good together. Really beautiful. But they also look sad as well. There's something hanging between them in the air, a sad something."

"That was why she was so close to him in middle school?" I asked

"Hm, they were two of a kind."

"I think you and Arima look better together though."

"We do?"

"Oh yes. His face, when he's with you. It's just… let me think… he's completely serene. Relaxed totally. Like there's nothing else he needs. Nothing in the whole world."

"Oh. I never saw that."

"Hm. It's there. He looks really happy. Even though he may not jump about and make a song and dance about it I can see it. He's got the face of a man in heaven."

"Really? Wow. I guess… thank you for that. Arima may be a more complicated and confused person than I thought though. It's when he's not with me that I worry. I probably know only a part of him."

_Dark and Light. Should I mention that? Has she seen that? _

"Was he wearing a mask too then? At first? Like you were?"

"Not really a mask. Not decieving people like I was, but I know he hides things. Things I don't know yet. It bothers me you know, knowing I'm in love with a person and yet I just don't really know him. I don't really understand who he is and its scary committing to a person who might be mostly a stranger still."

_Dark and Light. _

"Miyazawa? Does he have a very troubled background? I don't mean to pry but I have seen him looking a little strange sometimes."

"Hm, it's okay. He's adopted you know."

"He is?"

"Hm. His real parents were horrible to him. They beat him when he was little and they were crooks, stealing stuff. They ran off and abandoned him. His father now is his real father's older brother, his uncle."

"Oh."

"And I don't think he's very close to them. He loves them of course but he's distant from them."

"Miyazawa, I've seen Arima looking quite odd sometimes. Very serious and very worried. He looks kind of scary at times. Never around you though. Just on his own, I sometimes see him standing in a corridor thinking and his face looks really… hm… bleak. Dark. Hard."

I glanced at her, she walked on in silence, head down, thinking.

"Well I just wanted to tell you that. Just so you know. I mean I don't think he's an axe murderer or anything. And I don't want to scare you, but. Well, I like you a lot. And him. And I just thought you should know about these funny moods he has. I wouldn't want to see either of you get hurt."

Still silence.

Oh dear. I'd said something wrong.

"Gomen. I'm sticking my nose in where it's not wanted."

"No, Sakana, it's fine. Thank you for telling me."

"Okay Miyazawa, I wanted to get that off my chest."

"Sakana, please, just Yukino will do."

"Oh. Arigato."

"Or Yukinon like that nutcase Tsubaki says."

"Right. Heh, she's a bit odd isn't she? A wild card."

"Hm."

We reached a road crossing. There was no traffic passing but social conditioning meant we pressed the button and waited for the little red man to turn green.

How funny it is that we obey the rules of society even when they are irrelevant.

And we do it without even knowing it.

We let the rules rule our lives.

Even though they needn't.

_You know, Sakana, being gay isn't breaking any rules. Lots of people are like that._

Where did I read something in a magazine?

I can't remember.

Was it, one in six people have had homosexual thoughts in their lives?

And one in ten have actually experimented.

Those are big numbers.

Ten percent of the world's population can't be perverts.

Ten percent is more than some politicians get votes.

Looking at it that way it's almost.

Normal.

"_She struggled to face the world without the family love that everyone around her took for granted."_

Shibahime had struggled in a family without love. I had struggled too. She was being damaged. I had been damaged.

I understood that now.

That's why I felt a fondness for that silly girl Shibahime. Her story had made me understand my own.

The Incident had broken me.

Changed me.

Made me what I am today.

That on top of mom's death.

And lack of love from my dad.

I had only ever had love from women.

Mom.

Sis.

Never dad and certainly never my brother.

Men had only ever ignored me.

Or hurt me.

Is that how it works?

Is that how people are changed, how they react?

Years later abuse or one-sided love makes them turn gay?

I had no idea.

But it was all I could see in my own situation.

- - - oOo - - -

I think…

I think I need…

To tell someone…

I have to…

Before I explode…

Or go insane…

- - - oOo - - -

"Yukino?"

"Hm?"

"I need to say something to you."

"What?"

"I'm a shy person really."

"Hm."

"So… this is hard to say. But… Promise me you won't laugh. Or make fun of me."

"I won't."

"Will you promise?"

"Alright, yes. I promise I won't make fun of you."

"It's about Maho."

Sweat.

Sweating under my arms.

Nerves.

Fear. Please don't fail me now.

Keep going.

"What about her?"

"I…"

She stopped walking. Above us along the elevated railway a train pounded and roared. I waited for the sound to diminish. Or maybe for the ground to open up and save me from having to say words.

"Sakana… you're shaking."

"Yukino, I… I think… I."

Bless her, she simply stood looking at me, calmly, kindly.

"I… have. A crush on her."

There. It was out. It fell to the ground and sat there. We looked at it.

"It's more… than that. I think… I'm in love. With her."

I stared at the ground.

"Oh."

"You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm not laughing. Or making fun. But… are you sure?"

"Are you sure you love Arima? I've been like this for ages. Uh, a couple of months," I looked up at her, "I can't get her out of my head. I'm crazy about her. And that means…"

"Shush, it's okay."

"Yukino, that makes me a… you know…"

"Shush. I. Um… Look, it's not wrong or sick or anything."

"I feel like it is. Some days. And today. In town, the other girls. You know when Sakura said she always liked to be around cute girls? I just thought she might be the same as me. And also. Sena, the pretty one. I was looking at her. And I had bad thoughts. Oh, gomen… gomen!"

"Sakana. Have you spoken to Maho?"

"No! I daren't! She might run a mile!"

"I think you should talk to her. Maybe just try to bring the subject up somehow. I don't know, in a casual way. Not _you_ directly, just see what she thinks about, you know, that subject."

"I've sat and thought about this and thought about it round and round. I can't think of a way to do it."

"I don't know much about her. She certainly doesn't have a boyfriend at school. I don't know if she has one outside school. But she's not mentioned one has she? And she was quite happy to hug you today."

"So were you. That's just being friendly."

"There's an old proverb. It says _"Water once spilled, will not return to the bowl."_ I found it to be true when I was falling in love with Arima and I missed a chance to tell him how I felt. It took a lot of effort to work up the courage again to finally tell him. I think of it this way: _"In order to regain a chance you once lost, you will expend enormous effort."_ Why don't you talk to Maho? I have no idea how she will react but if you don't say anything you'll never know."

"But the way it is now we've just made friends and I love being around her, so I at least have that. If I was to say anything and shock her away I'd lose the little I have."

"I know, but if she doesn't say no. And you don't tell her, you might miss out on something wonderful."

"But…"

"But you can go your whole life and be too scared to make any decisions. That's no way to live."

"I… I'll think about it."

"I don't want you to think about it. I want you to do about it! I'll be around too. Friendship! Yeah? That's what it's for."

"Hm, okay. I'll see… but I just have trouble talking to people about anything really, and this…"

"Well don't dwell on it too much. Don't go round in circles and get yourself all worked up. Look, just forget about it for a while. The summer break is just beginning. As a group we'll meet up a few times so you can just chill out with her. And you could phone her and just do some homework together. Don't do anything silly but let her get to know you, that's the main thing. Let her see your good side."

"Not sure I have one."

"Baka! You great big klutz! Of _course_ you do. You've been really helpful to me and her this last week or two. You're a good solid person to have around. Maho knows that already. Just play it cool and see how it goes. Show her what a good friend you are and take your time."

"Arigato, Yukino, that makes sense. You're a good person."

"I want to thank you for trusting me with this. What you said is a big thing. Very important. I can see it means a lot to you and that it was hard for you to come out and say it. So I wanted to say thank you to you for thinking I'm a person you can trust."

I looked at her in fear.

"I can, cant I?"

"Yes. You can. Now let's get back."

- - - oOo - - -

_31 May – 2 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty One, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	32. Hearts That Go Bump In The Night

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Two – Hearts That Go Bump In The Night **

I was quiet for the rest of the evening.

Worrying.

Nervous.

Sweating.

Could I trust Yukino to keep my secret?

Yes. I trusted her. That's why I'd told her wasn't it?

Or was a part of me wanting this news to leak out?

Save me the trouble.

Confession by cowardice, it's called.

Well, in a way there was no use fretting over it.

In one way, if it came out, it came out and that would be that.

I'd have to deal with whatever situation resulted.

There didn't seem to be any question of Maho and I leaving.

I would have liked to do that, to have gone home with her on the train, walked part of the way home and said good night.

I might even have convinced myself it was right to walk her to her door.

Now that's funny, that makes me the boy in the relationship doesn't it?

But as the evening went on it became plain that we were all going to stay to see Shibahime's father arrive. And by then it might be too late to go home. We were invited to stay.

We all sat down to dinner.

I kept silent and ate.

So did Maho.

Sleeping here…

Where would we all sleep…?

My heart was doing funny things.

Not to mention my sweat glands.

- - - oOo - - -

I sat at one end of the table with Maho to my right and Yukino to my left.

Yukino has two younger sisters, one in 8th grade and one in 9th. They're both really sweet and act much older than they seem. Kano the youngest, is very precocious and acts like a little grown up although she's too cute for it to be annoying. The older girl, Tsukino, rather bothered me. Cut her dark hair short and she could have been me when I was younger, when I was innocent and carefree. Before I was destroyed. Seeing her made me feel sad.

Her parents seem very young, much younger than my mom and dad were. Her dad is strange, like a big child, he seems to get worked up over silly things.

"Yukino's never had friends over for the night before. I'm kind of nervous," he said.

"Why?" asked Kano, "Are you embarrassed?"

"Oh, please! What could he be thinking of?" Tsukino chirped up, smiling.

"Somehow it's really _nasty," _said Kano, sniggering

"You know?" her sister added, and the two of them exchanged a funny look as though their father was the weirdest pervert.

To my right Maho muttered something.

"This family… is so…"

"Different," I finished for her.

I didn't look up, my face had gone red. Yukino's father wasn't the only one at the table who was nervous about us girls staying the night. If this went on much longer, I'd need to change my underwear.

After dinner we all played Uno, a really silly hectic card game.

I wasn't quite in the mood, but Yukino sat me next to Maho and the quiet girl to my left seemed to gradually get into it which helped me relax a little.

Shibahime didn't want to play. She was in a blue mood and went to lie down in Yukino's room.

She stayed in there alone for over an hour.

- - - oOo - - -

There was a knock on the door and Shibahime's father arrived. With a lady.

He was young too and very good looking. I could see straight away how his daughter took after him. He wore a smart expensive suit, a tie pin with a jewel in it and very expensive looking cufflinks.

Here was a man with money.

The woman was very smart too, short brown hair and a neat dark pink suit.

We all sat in the lounge and Shibahime came in.

It was one of the weirdest evenings I have ever experienced.

Or rather _endured_ would be a better word.

It was like one of those day-time TV shows where real life families come into the studio and air all their private problems in front of the audience. And argue with each other. And fight. It was horrible. I sat there cringing in embarrassment.

It was such a shame. Shibahime's father was a lovely man, very soft spoken and gentle. I couldn't imagine a kinder man. But he'd had such a crap life.

He'd raised his daughter from a baby all alone, grieving for his dead wife.

He told us about how Shibahime had had her accident on her skateboard. She hit a loose wall apparently which had collapsed on top of her and she'd been trapped under the rubble all night.

He'd been sick with worry.

"I came to feel an extreme sense of unease at our current situation with me having to work and take care of a child at the same time. And at a time like that Hiromi was the one who gave me encouragement. She was a nurse in the hospital ward where Tsubasa was being treated. As we talked I learned that she too had parted with her husband in death and that she's leading a life alone with her child.

"We sort of hit it off. Even before that I thought she was a disciplined person for doing her work so quickly and professionally. And after that I came to be more self-conscious of her. At the time Tsubasa left the hospital I summoned the courage to ask her to a movie. The "Kyoushirou Nemuri" series was in the theatres. We'd say the actor, Ichikawa Raizou, was really cool. And also "Sazen Tange" series was good too.

"Um… I'm digressing, but the "Pot of a Million Gold Coins" was good. And the realistic way the director portrayed the protagonist was really good, too. And on TV, shows about the Shinsen Group, the Bakumatsu, and historical dramas were good too…"

I turned my head. Beside me Yukino was staring, eyes glazed, mouth open. And beyond her Maho sat, looking puzzled and a little stressed. As though she had to stay and study a difficult math problem but would much rather go empty a painfully full bladder.

Over Shibahime's father's head it looked like.

Beyond them Yukino's two sisters wore vacant looks that I could only interpret as mindlessly bored leaning towards borderline catatonia.

Across from me Yukino's parents sat, polite smiles nailed across their panicking faces.

What was wrong with the guy? Did his CD changer software accidentally unload the "resolve family issues" CD and load up the CD of "I'm going to bore you witless with my favourite movies in which you'll not have the slightest interest?"

It went on and on. Beside him the young woman sat there wearing a neutral gentle smile. She looked like an expert at this. How often did she have to do it?

"…but in the end the best ones are "Detectives of the Great Edo" and "Fang of Edo." Our opinions of the movies matched perfectly and we found we had a lot to talk about…"

Down to my left something caught my attention. Movement. Had I been interested in old Samurai westerns I would have been annoyed at the break in my concentration but since I myself had begun to look nervously around for a gun or a knife or at least a heavy implement such as a car, the fact that Shibahime, sitting between Yukino and Maho was slowly balling her right hand up into a very ready and painful looking fist, had noticed too that this sentence had become almost illegally long and embarrassingly convoluted, I was pleased when she finally leapt up, snarling like an alsation with a mouthful of razor blades and screamed:

"Who the hell asked you to tell your whole love story?"

We all grabbed our drinks as she lashed out with her foot at the table.

"Gomen nasai," her father stammered, "So... so that's why I thought it wouldn't be a bad thing to consider remarriage. I thought that would be the happiest thing for everyone. But why is it that all you do is fight me and you won't even try to think about it?"

His daughter stood up and kicked aside the remains of the shattered table and pushed aside the bodies of the fallen.

"Because I don't need a new family. Don't go off deciding what would make me happy. I don't like outsiders coming into our house. I don't like them messing in the kitchen without permission. I don't like you laughing with another woman. I can't think of someone like _that_ as a mother! I'm fine the way things have always been!"

Her fists balled tighter and her voice increased in it's thin sharp whiney tone.

Her father and the lady stood up.

"Tsubasa-chan, do you hate me?" She asked her.

There was a long pause. Very long. Shibahime looked pointedly to one side.

"Yeah. … Pretending to be my mother, and trying to gain favour, it's obvious that you're trying to score points."

"Tsubasa!" her father called her up sharply.

"It's alright," the lady continued, "Tsubasa, it's not like that. It's just that all I have is a son. I was happy to have the chance to take care of a girl. I honestly wish you were my real daughter."

Shibahime continued to look away.

"Don't say creepy things like that. It's disgusting," Shibahime planted her feet apart and drew her face down into a twisted grimace, "You really wanted to get married again, right? To a good looking, rich guy like my dad? Right?"

"That's enough, Tsubasa! Apologise to Ikeda-san!"

"Why should I? Why do you always take her side? Why don't you listen to _anything_ I say?" her voice got more and more shrill, "I want it to be just me and dad! Just the two of us, for ever and ever! Why am I the only one being called selfish? _Why don't you ever think about my feelings?_"

Father and girlfriend stood there, helpless. She moved forward. She tried. I could see her wanting this to be right.

"Tsubasa-chan…"

She lifted a hand to the fuming, red-faced girl.

Her hand was slapped away.

_"Don't you touch me you hag!" _

Shibahime's father stepped forward and before I could register what was happening he'd slapped his daughter's face.

The room was silent. We all sat, dumbstruck.

"Y… You slapped me. You never slapped me before."

She stepped away, confused and hurt. Yukino stood up and Shibahime pressed against her.

Yukino's mother spoke.

"She's a little worked up. Do you think it might be better if she stayed with us tonight?"

"Well…"

"It might be best for her to give her a little time to cool off."

"I see… Tsubasa, it's not that I don't love you anymore. That hasn't changed. When I found out you'd been in an accident I thought I'd go crazy. I'd lost your mother and I thought if I lost you… I couldn't go on living anymore."

He spoke to his daughter's back. She remained pressed up against Yukino.

"Keeping that to myself, bottled up inside, was… unbearable. I'm only human. I'm not perfect. I wanted someone who would be there for me. So I could keep on going. Look, I'm not going to get married right away. I want you to talk it over with us a little. If we all think about it further, I'm sure we'll find a way to make this work. We'll find a happier place to be."

He stopped speaking and stood there. For a minute nothing happened. Then without a backward glance Shibahime let go of Yukino and walked out of the room.

Her father turned to Yukino's parents.

"I'm sorry about everything."

"Don't worry about it," her mother replied, "It's not been any trouble."

"It will sort itself out," her father added.

The adults went to the door, Yukino's two sisters went with them.

Maho, Yukino and I stayed in the lounge. There was nothing to say. After a scene like that I was drained, and I'd not done anything.

"Yukino, would it be okay if I had a bath? I'm all horrible and sticky."

"Hm, sure. I'll get you a towel and one of my nightshirts to sleep in."

- - - oOo - - -

It was late in the night and I couldn't sleep.

I was nervous, and uncomfortable and expectant.

And hot.

I mean 'warm', hot, you perverts.

Not the other kind of hot.

It's no surprise I couldn't sleep.

She was lying right next to me.

I could have lifted an arm and touched her.

If I turned my head, her hair was less than eighteen inches away.

As I said, Yukino's house is quite small. I think she has a room and her two sisters have one but tonight it had become a kind of party.

Or rather we gathered together in shock.

A bit like wartime I guess.

Her father let us all sleep on the floor of the lounge, furniture pushed aside.

Three futons, each a double, side by side.

You just know what happened don't you?

I said nothing but glowed and blazed and fretted inside with a kind of sick, desperate hope.

Kano and Tsukino shared one. Shibahime and Yukino shared the middle one and Maho and I were on the end, with me between her and Yukino.

It was a subdued, strange time of going to bed. The nightshirt I wore smelled faintly of washing powder and a hint of Yukino. Almost no-one talked. It was quite late and the youngest girls fell asleep quickly.

Maho turned onto her right side, her back to me.

I lay there. Staring at the light fitting.

Thinking.

Worrying.

And from time to time looking at her.

She was so close… I burned. I could smell her.

I could see the curve of her outline under the thin blanket.

I lay there and went…

…slowly

…and silently

…crazy.

Then I heard someone quietly speaking. Shibahime.

" '_Tsubasa. You're my little treasure. I love you most in the whole world. I love you more than anything else.'_ Daddy used to say that, but in reality that woman's become more precious to him now. Maybe it's become a burden for him to raise me. He might want an escape from me."

I turned my head. Yukino was on her side, facing me. In the dark I could see her eyes shining. We looked at each other. She rolled onto her front and looked at Tsubasa.

"That's not true. You know that don't you? Everyone cares a lot about you."

"I hate all men. They treat you kindly, but in the end they always choose another woman."

I watched Yukino. For a long while she held herself up on her elbows and looked at Tsubasa. Then she turned back to me. Very quietly…

"I hope that someday Tsubasa will find a boyfriend who won't disappoint her."

I wondered,

"She was talking about Arima, wasn't she?"

Yukino made no answer, she stared at me.

"Goodnight, Sakana."

I turned and went back to examining the light.

_What about girls? In the end will they choose a man too? _

I was hot. At home I sleep in my skin. Yukino's old nightshirt was making me too warm. I pushed the blanket down so it just covered my feet.

_Maho… _

_So close… _

It was torture.

This was stupid. I should have insisted on going home.

Even wasting money on a taxi would have been better than this mindless agony of frustration.

I couldn't stand it. I had to ask.

Don't ask, don't get.

"Maho?"

Silence.

"Maho?"

"Hn?"

"Are you asleep?"

She turned to me, rolling over.

"Yes."

"Oh. Gomen."

"Not now though. What is it?"

Sleep slurred words.

"Can I…?"

I hardly dared say it.

"Hm?"

"Please can I have another hug?"

"What's the matter?"

"Gomen. I'm… lonely. Gomen nasai."

She sighed.

"You don't snore do you?"

I smiled at her.

"No-one's ever been close enough to tell me."

"Well, if you snore I'm out of here."

"Okay."

"Come on then."

I scooted over, lying on my side facing her. I didn't really know where to put my hands. I curled my right one to my chest and lay the left across her waist.

"Baka. That's no good. If you're going to do it, do it properly."

She wiggled up against me, right up tight and put her right hand across me on my back. With this hand she pulled me closer to her. A wave of rending, bursting emotion soared inside me, a feeling like I was a puddle of petrol and at any moment a single match would cause me to explode into flames. I knew my face was burning. I pressed it to her neck.

I ran my hand up her back.

Her breath was in my hair.

"Hand. Give me your hand."

I shifted my right hand up from between my breasts and with her left one she took and held it.

"I can smell your shampoo," she murmured, "nice."

I breathed in, breathed her in and would happily die there.

Suffocating in Arpegè and the scent of her.

Her skin, her hair.

"Maho, arigato. Gomen. I just need this right now. You're very good to me."

"I won't be if you snore. Now stop wriggling and go to sleep."

I lay, not daring to move and allowed my heartbeat to slow.

Except it wouldn't. It just kept on pounding. Thundering. Her hand holding mine was against me. She must feel it, it was banging like I had a war going on in me.

Another hand came lightly on my shoulder. It patted and stroked a little and rested there.

Yukino.

I drew in a big sniff.

Don't leak now…

"Shush…sleep…"

Her voice was like feathers. Her words were clean water in the dust of my heart.

Happier than I have ever been before, I became fretful and cross that I couldn't stay awake to enjoy her closeness, her warm hand, her soft legs, her breath dividing my hair like a summer breeze through crops.

Within minutes I was no longer there.

I was at peace.

Sleep came and took me away to a land of beautiful dreams, of billowing soft white hills and fragrant heavenly valleys, of lush bracken and salty beaches.

I ran across this virgin landscape, I ran and ran. I had to see all of it, explore it all. The sky was pale and the clouds were like strands of dark hair, and there were rainbows running down the clouds. I ran and jumped and laughed and breathed in and the air of this world smelled of her.

- - - oOo - - -

_1 - 2 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Two, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	33. Revelation With Miso Soup

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Three – Revelation With Miso Soup **

_"I used to say just follow your heart  
But my heart always led me in circles,  
and I used to say just follow your dreams  
but my dreams always led to nightmares."_

- Patrick Wolf, Don't Say No.  


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning's sunlight finds me alone except for a blissfully unconscious Shibahime curled up in a warm, hibernating, snuffling bundle a few feet away.

Even then, with hair tangled up and lying every which way and her face crumpled into a grimace of trying to shut away the light and hang on to the last minutes of sleep, she's cute enough to want to leap on and snuggle to gentle wakening.

The others are up.

And gone.

The shouji slides open with a bang.

"Up! Come on! Breakfast! It's nearly eight!"

A swirl of black hair and green-blue eyes chides me from the doorway and is gone.

Did I just dream that?

Waking up in the same house as her?

Is marriage like this?

_Get up dearest, you'll be late for work. Out the door with the morning paper and a peck on the cheek… _

I roll onto my back and remember.

I close my eyes.

Recalling…

…an arm around me, lying in the hollow of my waist.

(Where it's meant to fit. Where years of familiarity have worn a soft groove for it).

…a hand, warm and insistent, pressing between my shoulder blades and pulling me closer.

…a voice, blurred with sleep but nevertheless animated by a mind that when it decides to do something, it knows it should be done right: "_Baka. That's no good. If you're going to do it, do it properly._"

…a voice, made up of warm dark sounds that cuddle me to sleep; the breaths that pour out of her, creating those murmured words, disturb my ability to reason more than they disturb my hair.

…a hand, holding mine and balled up into a comfortable tangle and pressed against me where only Yukino's borrowed nightshirt separates her knuckles from my bumping heart.

…a neck, so soft, so fragrant with her smell. It seems the hollow of it is exactly the right depth and curve to fit my cheek and chin and mouth into.

I lift my hand and smell it. Arpegè. My face turns pink when I wonder where it might have lain to become sheened with such an enchanting scent.

I need to use the bathroom. Not to wash, although there's that as well, but to simply get cold water on my skin before the heat that's building in my middle demands the use of the only other means I know to take it away.

On my way across the hallway I fold my arms across my front knowing that if I don't the hardened points of me will betray me.

Be quick, Sakana, the window of opportunity in which the cold water will be sufficient to do what's needed is closing fast.

- - - oOo - - -

A little later and only slightly more composed but considerably more awake, I enter the kitchen diner.

I find I've wandered into heaven. Six girls, aged between thirteen and sixteen all straight out of bed. The room is a delightful sea of tousled hair, yawns, stretching, baggy shorts, bare legs and feet, bare arms, sleep-rubbed eyes and soft chests under loose nightshirts or borrowed tee-shirts. Still-dozy sisters lean prettily against each other. The wonderful shapes beneath shirts announce that underwear is conspicuous by its absence.

Yukino's mother has laid the table, we swoop down on it and attack without mercy. Breakfast is slaughtered with extreme prejudice, no prisoners are taken.

I make the surprising discovery that sleeping with another woman gives me a huge appetite. This is good, it means I can keep silent and avoid everyone else's eyes throughout the meal.

I sit silently and listen to the bizarre animal that is the Miyazawa household doing it's everyday thing.

"Ohayo!"

"Ohayo!"

"Let's eat!"

"Yeah, let's eat!"

Yukino's dad speaks. He's got a funny far away look on his face and a dreamy sound in his voice.

"This kind of thing is great. Even normal daily breakfast becomes brighter when there's a lot of girls… Hmmm… maybe I'll have another two or three kids."

There is a sound like a washer failing on a bath tap and a sudden pressure is released in an explosive splash. I glance up. Maho has just had a catastrophic blow back into her miso.

"No way!" one of Yukino's sisters pipes up, wiping soup from her eye, "I don't want more kid sisters at this age!"

"But I want a big brother," Tsukino whines damply.

"Don't talk about family planning at breakfast, dad! Besides, you're not guaranteed to get daughters. You might get three sons."

Was there any time when Yukino wasn't logical? I'd hate to live with a logical person. Where would all life's mystery go?

"Hm! Then I'll start a baseball team."

"Our names mean Moon, Snow and Flower so you've got to match the names."

"Yeah! Like Land, Sea and Sky."

"Or like Justice, Friendship and Victory."

"Faith, Hope and Charity!"

"I'd want twin boys named Kouichi and Tsuyoshi," Mrs. Miyazawa said.

Heck, even she was joining in? What a weird family.

"A twin boy and girl named Love and Truth," suggested her dad, contributing to the silliness.

"Flower and Dream."

"Heaven and Earth."

"Old Man and The Sea."

"Romeo and Juliet."

"My God, this family is…" Maho muttered through gritted teeth.

_Normal_

The thought rose up suddenly in my head.

_Is this what a normal family is like? _

"Apples and Oranges."

My family, what I remembered of it, had never been like this. Meals had been quiet, polite affairs. Before the cancer came. It came, one beautiful spring day when I was seven and took mummy away to hospital.

"Jack and the Bean Stalk!"

"Yeah!"

There were days, weeks when she came back. But she was never the same. She would sit in the armchair by the window and just look at the world outside, doing nothing. Resigned to the end that was coming.

Or sit outside in the garden in that wonderful hot sun we had that year.

And waste away.

I watched her die that summer.

Even though a seven year old didn't understand what was happening, had no idea what the word cancer meant, I knew mummy was ill.

She got thinner and thinner, less and less.

I watched her, like a photograph in sunlight, fading before my eyes.

My eighth birthday was spent in the hospital, sitting by her bed.

It was the last day in my life that she would hold my hand.

"Track and Field!"

That anyone would, until Eguchi did this spring.

I realize now that she gave up. She didn't fight at all.

She simply came to a stop. And waited.

I've read books on it. The human body is immensely strong, it has a powerful resilience to disease. It's not only a vessel of bones, muscles, blood and organs, it's also a place where the mind, the soul and the will hold sway. If a person wants to resist injury or sickness they can.

They can fight it.

"Gr-and Canyon!"

"Hey, ha ha…!"

If they want to.

A person can fight cancer. I've read about it. Some sufferers have driven it back and forced it out of their bodies. Some have lived active lives with it inside them for twenty years. Some have beaten it altogether for it never to return.

But mummy didn't fight it, she lay there and let it win.

It only took six months, a single summer, and it was all over.

"Abbott and Costello!"

I was eight.

And already dead.

Sis took over the running of the household.

Dad did what he always did and remained almost invisible.

A traditional dad. He'd go to work, earn money, come home and eat dinner then sit in the library in his kimono. He was an empty vessel.

He wasn't a father to me.

His seed made me, then after that he became no more than an income.

You bastard, dad.

You uncaring, distant, useless, un-loving bastard!

"Pamela And-erson!"

"Hey, good one!"

Why did mummy let go and let it happen?

I think I know.

There was nothing to stay for was there?

She'd had twins when she was in her mid-twenties.

A lovely helpful girl and a boy who'd grow up to be a pervert and molest his kid sister. Well done mum, great work.

But don't blame her, she couldn't know that.

Then, eleven years later.

Me.

I was a mistake.

My dad told me one day when he was cross.

Well thank you, father, that made me feel _really_ wanted.

The family I remember involved an older mother who tried hard but was always tired and busy. She gave me love, all she had left to give but she was fighting a losing battle.

Sis was very kind to me. I think back and when I think of love in that household, it's you I think of, sis.

A harassed mom, an invisible dad, a useless good for nothing brother, already going bad when I was born, warping like timber left in the rain.

And mom, eaten alive by breast cancer when she was only forty-three.

"Sakana-chan?"

In short a pretty comprehensively fucked up family.

And I never knew why mom and dad were like they were. We were never on close speaking terms. Never had a heart to heart with either of them.

Sis pretty much held me together through childhood and elementary school.

"Sakana-chan?"

Then she got married and moved out and it all went downhill from there.

"_Sakana-chan?_ Are you alright?"

"Oh, gomen… what?"

"Have you finished?"

I looked at my bowl, my eaten meal. I held it up to Yukino's mother. It seemed to have become welded to my chest for the last several minutes. She smiled kindly and took it, cleared away the breakfast things.

I was the only person sat at the table.

Out in the entryway I could hear goodbyes being called out.

So is this how a family is?

Is this normal?

All this silliness and joking and fun?

And love?

I want it.

I've missed all this.

How did that happen?

God I want a family so much.

I want to be loved…

"Sakana-chan? Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

"Hm, gomen."

Mumbling and hiding my embarrassment I get up and go to the main room to get my clothes. In the doorway I push past Maho. I catch a sense from her, a sense of concern.

Of worry.

"Gomen…"

Saying sorry. It's the story of my life.

- - - oOo - - -

"Well, I guess I should study or something."

"Then I'll study too."

Maho put down a newspaper and got up. Yukino went to her desk and began to rummage about.

"What about you Sakana?"

"Hm?"

I was by the window looking out but not seeing anything.

Another hot day.

Yukino's sisters had gone off to their clubs and her dad to work.

"Desk?"

"Oh, you can sit here, Maho. Use Tsukino's desk."

"Okay."

"Sakana? What are you going to do?"

I have no idea.

After yesterday, and last night, and that strange breakfast just now…

I feel drained.

Emotion overload.

I think I just need to lie down.

Or sit in a nice hot bath for an hour and consider my existence.

"I'm gonna go home."

Three heads turn at the voice. Shibahime gets up.

"Huh?" says Maho.

"Sorry for acting like a spoiled brat. It's not like anything'll happen. Even if I hold out longer."

"But are you really sure?" Yukino asks.

I glance at Maho. She's looking really pissed off at this. I wonder why.

"Hm. Daddy's usually soft. But this time he didn't yield. So all I can do is give up now."

"I'll come with you to the station."

"Are you going Sakana?"

It's Maho asking me and I wonder at that.

"Yes. I can't concentrate here. Too many distractions. I'll go do some homework at home."

"Okay. I'll call you soon."

"Okay Yukino. Thanks for the food and bed and everything."

"Take care now," I watch her, she winks.

Friendship.

Yeah, you know I could get used to this.

"Bye then."

"Bye."

It's Maho who sees me to the door.

Why do I get the feeling she'd rather come with me?

What are you thinking?

Why were you cross when Shibahime said she was going?

"Hey, Sakana, are you sure you're OK?"

_No. _

_I want to stay here. No, I want you to come with me. Come home with me. Move in. Be my family. I need to be near you. I need your smell filling my house, my bed, my mind. I just want your company. I need a friend. A special friend. I want to talk to you, laugh with you, go shopping with you, cook for you, go to the dentist with you just so you know I'm waiting outside. Just so you know I care. I want to care for you. When you're ill, when you're lonely, when you're angry, when you're unhappy, when school becomes too tough. I want you. I want you to want me. I need you. I need you to need me. _

"Yeah. I'm fine. Catch you later."

I turn.

I suddenly stop.

It seems rude not to say anything, so I force my shyness aside and say it.

Even though I can't bear to meet her eyes.

"Oh, about last night. Arigato. You were exactly what I needed."

"That's okay."

I walk away. Shibahime is already some way down the street so I run and catch her up.

And doing that I don't look back.

And don't see Maho watching me go.

She calls out.

"Hey! Phone me, okay?"

I raise an arm in acknowledgement.

- - - oOo - - -

I walk with the beautiful dwarf to the station. She keeps her head down and says nothing.

The train comes.

We get on.

We sit side by side. It's mid morning on a Sunday, the train is almost empty.

"There's no-one home when I open the door."

"Gomen?"

I turn and look at her.

"Do you know how lonely that is?"

"Coming home to an empty house?"

"Hm."

"Yes. I'm an expert at it. I live alone."

She looks at me.

"You do?"

"Yeah. My parents are both dead."

"Oh."

A pause.

"You know how I felt last night?"

"No, not really. If I had a single parent and they remarried I'd be over the moon."

"You would?"

"Of course. You get twice the love then, twice the friendship."

"I just think that woman is after my dad and his money."

"She didn't strike me as that sort. She seemed kind to me."

"I hated that house."

"Oh? Why?"

"Arima loves her. I wonder what he sees in that family. There must be something there that attracts him."

"I thought it was wonderful."

"You did?"

"Hm. It was so lively, there was so much going on. So much love. Yukino's dad is crazy isn't he?"

She made no comment.

"It's different. Different to my own life," she went on.

"Do you spend a lot of time on your own?"

"Hm, daddy often works very late, sometimes all night when he has a show."

"Show?"

"He's a fashion designer."

"Wow, cool."

"It's not cool. It's horrible. He's hardly ever there."

"So if he marries you'll have someone there. A mother and a brother."

"Hm."

"Think about it some more, Shibahime-chan. Surely having company in the house will be better than being alone.?"

She gave a big sigh.

"Well, I have to get off here," I said.

"Alright. Arigato Ryusaki-chan."

"Bye."

She lives down towards Yokohama a little way. At the Nambu line interchange I got off and took the other train one stop east to Musashi-Kosugi towards Kawasaki.

I walk home to a silent house.

I let myself in, throw off my horrible clothes clammy with yesterday's dirt and pad about the place naked.

At least you can do that when you live alone.

One of the few advantages.

The place is musty, closed up for a day in summer. I open the windows, slide some shouji open to the garden.

Asaba sunbathes naked. I wonder what that's like?

Can't do that here, the neighbours would see.

Funny little random thoughts like those often come up in my head.

Call it one of my features.

In times like these I need to think, so I run a bath. Shower, wash my hair, soap.

I rinse and get in.

Close my eyes.

Let the warmth come around me.

Now I understood what it was Shibahime and her father argued about.

She was lonely and saw her father's friend as a threat who would take him away.

Leaving her even lonelier.

He was lonely and afraid he could not look after a teenage daughter because his job made him so busy. He'd met a woman who was also lonely. She had always wanted a daughter. The two of them fit together well. He saw her as a way to ease his burden. He needed her to lean on.

It was simple.

Why did Shibahime find it so hard to see?

She felt threatened, that's what.

Simple fear.

What he wanted was what I wanted. I saw that now too.

These feelings of physical excitement such as I'd felt this morning were nothing to do with the real problem.

The real problem. Was loneliness.

Having someone nearby who understands you, and who you understand. How comforting it must be knowing that someone like that is waiting for you at home to share your day with you. In truth I wasn't made bad by you, was I brother?

I wait, listening inside my head.

_**I'm surprised it's come to this Saka, you knew the truth all along. **_

_**You just refused to see it. **_

_**You'd rather blame me. **_

_**I enjoyed that though, taking the blame, it meant I had power over you. **_

_**Whenever I spoke, you were afraid. And I love to feel your fear. **_

_So, brother, we're agreed. Not you. _

I was made bad by myself.

_You'd hurt me, yes. _

_**Mmm… yes. **_

But it was me who decided I didn't want friends, because I thought if I let people get close to me they would hurt me.

So I didn't let anyone get near me. To deter them I made myself as unattractive to know as I possibly could.

I let my school grades drop. I stopped eating sensibly and started eating junk. Too much junk.

I gave up on basic hygiene too, so people would hate me and avoid me.

Because I thought being alone would be easier than dealing with people.

But now…

…now I'm lonely.

God, Maho, I'm so lonely.

And I've made such a mess of this beautiful body nature has given me.

So that's why I fell in love with you.

I must have seen your cold, angry, aggressive side. Your dominant exterior. The you who likes to be top dog. Secretly I wanted that. I wanted you to take control of me and shake me out of my world of self-pity. When you bullied me I felt such a rush of excitement, it was almost physical in its intensity.

Does that make me a masochist?

It's almost like that isn't it?

And I understand why I was so upset when you began your fight with Yukino. It wasn't that I liked her, it was that I knew how clever she was and I feared you'd lose.

My God, now I see it. I was protecting my own interests. I wanted to preserve the dominant you, the you who would boss me around in your gang, the you who was the leader I looked up to. The you who would take control of me and lead me.

The physical excitement when I thought of you was part of that. The dominant you actually aroused me, made me hot. Made me want to touch myself, imagining it was you, your fingers, your mouth…

But I couldn't get close to you. In your power, your strength you made me afraid. So I suffered, unable to get close to the thing I wanted.

But then something strange happened.

You fought Yukino and she beat you.

And I suddenly saw something else.

I suddenly saw an unhappy confused you.

Someone I could help, someone I could get close to. Someone who was vulnerable and needed contact. You probably didn't even know but you opened up and let me in, gave me the opening I needed.

And something that has really confused me, something I've thought about over and over and over.

Why did I choose a girl? Why did I fall in love with you, and not a boy?

I suppose that part _was_ due to my brother. I was afraid of him, I was afraid of boys and men.

How contrary it all is. How very mixed up. I chose a dominant person who could lead me and shake me up, but I didn't want a boy.

I must have looked around unconsciously at the people near me and mentally set aside all the boys, then all the meek, gentle, nice girls. Unconsciously I selected you.

I chose you. You were perfect for me. So now…

…Now I don't need you any more.

Now that I understand what has been going on.

I understand…

…you were a symbol for me. You represented a means to escape.

You were merely a means to an end.

- - - oOo - - -

Except…

Except, now…

In these last few days…

I have met someone else…

Someone I like.

Someone new. Someone friendly. Someone vulnerable.

Someone who hardly smiles and who I want to see smile.

When they smile they are a new person, radiant and delightful.

Things happen inside me when you smile. Wonderful things.

You know, I really _do_ love you.

At first you were a crazy infatuation, a person who might save me.

But now…

…now I understand all this…

…I understand that I do want you…

It isn't just your body that I crave, that sends me crazy.

It's _you_. I want _you_. _All _of you. Everything about you. To hold and be held by. To see and be seen by. To talk with. To get to know and have you know me. To laugh with you. More than anything I know now that I want you…

…as a friend.

- - - oOo - - -

_3 – 5 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Three and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	34. One Summer Sunday It All Made Sense

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Four – One Summer Sunday It All Made Sense **

Finally I understand where it is that I am.

Now, I just need to make the effort to get where I want to be.

Simple.

- - - oOo - - -

I finished my bath, and feeling positive and good about myself for once I slipped on my green satin kimono, one of the few luxuries I'd treated myself to recently. I'd had a wager with myself: if I got to fifty lengths in two hours by the middle of June I'd treat myself to something outrageous.

I made my target.

So now I put some music on, had another serious go with the spot cream, made myself a salad lunch and then settled down to do some studying.

I knew it had to be done.

If I didn't manage to take a big bite out of the homework early in the summer break I just knew that I'd let things slide and slide until with one week to go to September I'd panic and try to cram it all in, worried and messing it up.

No, at least get some done now, then the rest will take on a sense of proportion.

So, worst first, as they saying goes. Get it over with. Classical Japanese and math.

Hm, my idea of a relaxing Sunday afternoon.

I gritted my teeth and got on with it.

- - - oOo - - -

By evening I was done.

I sat outside on the back porch with an iced barley tea and watched the day die.

I'd not felt such peace for longer than I could recall.

And as the light faded my thoughts faded too.

To her, of course.

Maho…

I want…

What is it I want exactly? Not much…

I just want someone else in my life.

I want to no longer be empty and cold.

I want someone else in this house.

Dammit, I'm through with empty houses.

I'm not asking for much.

Please, come and live with me.

I just want to come home and find the lights on.

I'm sick and tired of meals for one.

TV dinners and TV news.

I want conversation.

With someone who's not in my own head.

Arguments about silly things that really don't matter at all.

Like, _why is it you take all the wooden coat hangers and leave me the wire ones?_

Or, _you've done it again, you left the bread out and it's gone hard!_

I want to put away two lots of bedding.

And have pillow fights.

And pack away books and CDs that another person has left slobbishly scattered about. I want to chide you for being so messy.

And see your sulky pout.

Then kiss it away.

I want to see two lots of laundry on my washing line.

I want to see what clothes you wear. What underwear.

(I smile at that).

I'd like to buy you new underwear. Something silky and ridiculously expensive and beautiful. And watching you, I want to be suddenly bothered and flustered and become all unnecessary as you try it on.

And with that blossoming and disarming heat in my centre I want there to be no longer just two ways for me to deal with it; not just cold water or my own fingers – but a third option.

So much I want that third option…

Four, if you count your mouth.

(I close my eyes and gently spend a few moments considering that fourth)

I want to clean the bath after someone else has used it.

Back scrubbing, wow, so much I want to do that. And have you scrub mine. Down lower, oooh, yeah, just there, where it itches, ah, yes!

I just want…

To sit in a room in the evening and look up from my book and see another face. Even if a whole evening goes by and our entire conversation consists of "good night", I would be in heaven.

_"You're quiet tonight," you'd say. _

_"Sshhh," would be my answer, "listen." _

_"What?" _

_"Nothing. Nothing at all." _

_And I'd smile at the sound of us existing. _

Reading, quietly, I want to pause and feel your eyes on me. And without me looking up, without you speaking, I'll return to my book and you to your studying. Silently both aware that the other knows.

I want words to be unnecessary.

I want feelings to be essential.

It's important to me to know if you prefer _Akira_ or _Wings of Honneamise_; and who is prettier? _Kiki_ or _Sheeta_? These are the vital questions of life.

Please, I just want someone special in my life.

As the light faded and the evening insects made it too bothersome to sit outside, and I got up to come in and began to wonder what to do tomorrow, the phone rang.

- - - oOo - - -

_4 - 5 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Four, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	35. Days Of Wonder 1: Bowling For Beginners

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Five – Days Of Wonder #1: Bowling For Beginners **

"Moshimoshi."(1)

"Ohi!"

"Asaba-kun!"

_Oh… _

_Not Maho. _

"The one and only."

"Dou siteru?"

"Mah mah. Dou?"

"I'm good. Don-na?"

"I'm taking you out. Day after tomorrow, that's what."

"Oh, are you? That's very forward of you. I might not want to go."

"Oh, you will."

"You seem very sure."

"Of course. It's me asking, there's no way you'd refuse."

I smiled. Damn, I could fall in love with this big idiot. He was lovely. He was right, too. Short of Maho phoning me and asking me out, I couldn't think of anyone else I'd be happier seeing.

"Alright, then. Where?"

"Aha, you see? You can't resist my charms. Anyway, it's a secret!"

"Not your perverted naked back garden I hope?"

"Nope, do you think I'm that cheap?"

"Yes. I do. Not the beach?"

"No, come on my beautiful Sakana, credit me with more subtlety than that."

I tried to.

It was difficult.

"Sorry, no, I'm having trouble. Help me out here."

"Such a cruel mistress. Why do I bother? Every time I open my heart to you, you throw my efforts back in my face."

"I know you like it really. So, come on, where?"

"Be ready at eleven. Bye!"

"Wait. What should I wear?"

"Nothing at all would be nice. But if you are the shy type then clothes would do."

I sighed, it was hopeless.

"Not a swimming costume then?"

"Your biohazard suit? No, not this time. Anything you like, something casual and summery and sexy and feminine that shows off your beautiful soft…"

"Asaba," I growled, "enough. I'll see you at eleven."

- - - oOo - - -

Ten pin bowling.

If you've had some practice it's easy I should imagine.

I hadn't.

I'd never even _seen_ a bowling alley, never even tried to lift one of those huge ridiculous heavy cannonballs, let alone tried to throw one.

Throwing? Is that the technical term?

I didn't know those either.

And anyway, I was grumpy that day. My third day. A girl is allowed to be grumpy for a few days each month, okay?

What I did discover about ten pin bowling was that I am utter rubbish at it.

Why are the balls so damn heavy?

Being able to pick the stupid things up would be a start.

And those holes. I could see them only as a design to rip off a girl's fingernails.

Those stupid channels at the side! What's with all that then? The ball just goes into it and doesn't come out.

They need curved sides like a skateboard park. That would be much more useful.

We messed around for half an hour.

Or rather I did. I might have knocked down maybe half a dozen white bottles in twenty throws. Sheesh.

Asaba though…hmmm…

He was good.

Great power.

He'd pick the heaviest ball weight and slam it down the track, dead straight, like a bullet and crash those bottle things down, time after time.

Sitting watching him move was definitely a couple of notches above sitting at home doing history.

But my performance remained dismal.

So after several balls went down the channels.

Or gutters so I'm told.

Asaba decided I needed some tuition.

You know naked sunbathing, or getting a look at me in the pool, or running around in full-on perv mode in a girl's swimwear department, or maybe getting me down the beach to rub oil on me might all be cheap obvious tactics to get an embarrassed reaction from me.

But ten pin bowling, now that was, I'll admit, a good one.

I'll give him credit where it's due.

Because ten pin bowling tuition requires a _lot_ of body contact.

More than you can possibly imagine.

If you're me that is.

And it wasn't until we were on my fifth or sixth throw and I'd finally got the hang of the fingers in the holes and that the technique was to curve the shot a little so it went banana-shaped down the track.

Track? Or lane? Not sure…

That I found I was stood, bent forwards, feet planted apart ready to move and felt.

Him.

Close.

Oh, yeah.

Waaaay too close.

He was right with me, his back bending with mine, his feet planted next to mine, his hand steadying my arm, his face right by my neck.

It was such an obvious move, but I didn't see it coming.

I must be his dream.

Someone so ridiculously innocent that they don't see a classic move like this coming.

I went pink.

"Uh…"

"Yes, chin down a little more, so your eye will be down with your hand when you release, that way your aim… oh. What?"

"You… your… Gomen!"

I stood up and moved away from him.

"What?"

I sat at the little table where our drinks were and gulped iced tea.

I went all silly and flustered just like those anime chibi girls do, all scribbled red lines across my cheeks and hands between my knees and head down and big wobbling eyes.

He stood there, my bowling ball in his hands.

He was laughing at me, I knew he was.

"What's up?"

"Um… you were…"

He put the ball back in the funny chute thing and came and sat by me. I edged a little away.

"Gomen," he said, "I've embarrassed you."

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, it's alright, really."

"It doesn't look alright to me."

"It's just…you were very close."

"That bothers you?"

"Hm," a small pink-cheeked nod.

"We can stop if you like. I just thought you'd like to learn."

His voice. So smooth. So assured. So damn. Nice. I wasn't looking at him but I could hear him smiling.

I just couldn't tell if he was genuinely being nice and trying to teach me or if this was Stage One Of Asaba's Master Plan For Getting Ryusaki's Panties Off.

I just _did not know_, could not tell.

I realised then how vulnerable I was, how stupid I was to come way out here to Kawasaki Bowl-a-Rama with a guy I didn't really know _that_ well, all alone, no-one else knowing where I was…

All the scary scenarios reared up in my mind.

But…

There had been something else.

I was in denial, that was the real problem.

The real problem was that while I'd been bending over all focused on getting the posture right and thinking in bowling mode, I hadn't noticed that for the three or four seconds before I panicked that I'd…

Well, it had to do with a strong presence.

A strong male presence.

Close to me. Very close. Touching. Pressing all against me.

His warmth and the fact that he was so much bigger than me, so much stronger. A sensation of being helpless if he should choose to do something. Something wicked and nasty and perverted and evil.

And gorgeous.

And beautiful.

And dominating and strong.

For those few seconds I'd wanted him to forget about bowling and which fingers went in which holes and how to cup the ball underneath with the left hand, and how to lift it to my chin to check the aim.

Instead, I'd wanted.

Well, you don't need me to spell it out do you?

You know what I'd wanted.

And that was why I was so confused and flustered.

I wasn't embarrassed with him.

But with myself.

"Gomen nasai. I'm just – uh… Baka! I didn't realise how close you'd be when you were coaching me. That's all."

"You don't like it?"

"No! I mean yes. I mean…"

"We'll stop then. I don't mind. I just thought you'd like…"

"Asaba-kun, it bothers me. Please don't come so close."

"Is it me, something to do with me?"

"In a way. Oh, maybe not. No, it's me actually. I've been afraid… of boys. For a long time."

"Let's go."

He stood, picked up our things and offered me his hand.

I didn't take it.

We went out.

We walked in silence to the station and caught the Nambu Line train a couple of stops to the coast.

We walked to the sea.

There was a park here, lots of grass and trees and flowers, a lake. We went in.

We sat outside a café in the sunshine and he bought ice creams.

We ate them.

Silence. Not a word spoken.

"Sakana-chan, I'm not going to do anything. If me being close, if having a boy close to you is a problem then… well, please trust me. Hm? I won't touch you, if you don't want me to, promise."

I looked up at him.

Big eyes again.

"I like you tons. You're nice," his voice was softer. A caring side to him I'd not seen before, "The last thing I want is for you to get the wrong idea about me. For you to be scared of me. Hate me."

"No, I don't. Not at all. And it's not you specifically. It's boys in general. I…"

I couldn't say it, couldn't make it come out.

"It isn't that you're just a nice person, Sakana. I find you interesting too."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you at the beginning of the year. You looked really down then, really unhappy. But later in the term you seemed to start to sort yourself out. You've lost a lot of weight. You look great compared to when I first saw you."

"I do?"

What girl doesn't love being complimented this way? We're easy to please. As long as it's genuine.

And that was my problem.

Was his being nice to me genuine?

Could I trust him?

"Yeah, you do. And you've come out of your shell too from when Miyazawa first introduced us. Heck, you were so shy then, it was crazy. I could hardly get a word out of you. Now look at you! You've really changed."

"Have I?"

"Of course. You're a really interesting person. Because you've changed so much. So. What I'm saying is… don't let whatever hang ups you've got spoil this progress. I mean it. I think you're really cool because of what you're achieving."

I sat there, wondering who this boy was saying things like this.

He was the same Asaba; he'd been serious and intense like this when he'd spoken about his father the other day.

There was just this wonderful caring thing in his eyes now. That hadn't been there in the father discussion at all.

This gentle intensity was intriguing. It was astonishing that this guy was the same idiot who messed about, who was such a creepy playboy.

There was something else too. As well as this powerful caring thing he had, there was a thing going on that indicated he was impressed. What I had done, or was doing, he actually found impressive. Clearly self-improvement pressed his buttons.

And right on the edge of all that, something more. Sadness. There was a hint of sadness in there too.

Who was this guy?

I didn't know.

But the thing was I was _wanting_ to know.

He was drawing me in. I was curious about these little hidden things, these interesting things.

"You're really kind to me. I don't deserve this."

"Baka! 'Course you do! Why don't you? You're a great person! You can withstand my luscious impossible charm for one thing, very few girls are that strong."

He did a little swaying boogie thing in his seat and made a face like he was overflowing with lust.

I smiled.

"No, it's not that at all."

But I couldn't tell him the real reason.

Because I was all screwed up in my head about being in love with another girl… and that freaked me out so I'd got to know him just so I could prove to myself that I wasn't some perverted freak… but now here I was a couple of months later happy that I loved Maho and wanted to spend for ever with her and much less hung up about that now and… (big breath) …now I was close to him I found my old fears about boys coming back… and I screwed up our day and his trust and my self confidence and ruined everything because my affection for him wasn't genuine and I was just using him.

Phew!

And of course, the issue was I couldn't tell him any of that.

"Gomen. I've ruined our day."

"No you haven't. Look, let's go do something. Something where we can just chill and not talk if you don't want to."

"Okay, but I might be a bit boring."

"Oh, I don't think so. One thing you are _not_, Ryusaki Sakana, is boring."

- - - oOo - - -

"Lets do that," I said as we walked beside the lake. We'd come across some rowing boats for hire, "You can row can't you?"

"What do you think? Can Asaba Hideaki row? What a stupid question! Taking a beautiful girl out on a lake in a boat is such a romantic way to spend an afternoon, the hard masculine wooden oars slipping into the wet feminine water, the moist penetration, the uprising prow of the boat slicing through the unresisting liquid…"

"I'll take that as a yes then. I'm buying."

We had the boat for an hour. I sat in the stern on a cushion and arranged my knees and ankles carefully together (my yellow sundress today, I'd finally relented and gone all girly. Fortunately it had a full skirt to below the knee so not much risk of showing anything, even on the low seat of a row boat) while he sat facing me, his back to the bow and did the manly stuff.

And yeah, as I think you've guessed, he was pretty good. He had a pair of shorter shorts on today (purple ones, rather strangely although the effect against his tanned skin was pleasing enough) and I could see his knees. They were nice knees.

So I avoided looking at them.

He had a white tee-shirt on and it was impossible to resist sneaking a glance or two at his arms, his chest, his stomach muscles as he rowed.

I can think of far worse ways to spend an afternoon.

For a while we didn't talk, he just rowed us around and around and the sun pressed down on us.

Hot. I needed shade, my shoulders were burning.

"Go around the island at the far end of the lake."

"At once, my lady. Captain Asaba, at your service. I am yours to command."

He made a big sweepy type bow, taking off an imaginary hat.

I smiled. Good, having him back to his old self was better. I knew where I was with this Asaba.

At the far side of the lake the island was close to the shore and along the rear side of it was a narrow strip of water. It felt like a river and it was overhung with willows. It felt really calm under here, very relaxing. I imagine English rivers to be like this, all quiet and shady with no sign of concrete storm drains like we get along so many rivers here in Tokyo. Practical but hideous. An essential safety feature but right off the bottom of the romance scale.

The shade was lovely, cool and with sunlight dappling through. Komorebi is the word we use, a lovely word. I love the sound of it. If I ever have a child (hm…) girl or boy, it doesn't matter, I'll name them komorebi. I just love the sound it makes and the sense of calm it invokes.

I pulled the cushion up so it was behind my back and leaned into it, closing my eyes.

This really was peaceful. From time to time there was the low sound of an oar dipping in water, the lightest of splishy sounds, the patter of drips, the creak of the wood turning in the steel rowlocks.

See? I even asked Asaba what they were called so I could tell you the proper word. Enough of bowling channels and tracks and bottles. This time I want to get it right.

You want to know why?

Because this I liked. That afternoon when we went out in that row boat was just lovely.

Asaba was right, dead on the money. Rowing under the trees like this was really romantic. There's something powerful and spiritual about being near water, the sound, the coolness, the motion of the boat, the peace and quiet.

I closed my eyes, I drifted.

I think I might even have gone to sleep.

We hardly spoke for the rest of that day, small things, silly things. Nothing you need to know about.

I thought I had really messed things up with the way I'd behaved but Asaba asked me no questions about it and I didn't want to give any explanations.

Maybe some day, but not yet.

But what impressed me most about him that day was his attitude to me. He didn't seem the least bit put out about the bowling thing, and he was quite happy to let it go. I imagine some boys would be really pushy about it, inquisitive. Fake concern trying and failing to hide nosey-ness. But not him.

I did wonder, on the train home, what I was to him. It was clear we didn't seem to be moving forwards much. I didn't see him as a boyfriend. I wasn't sure if I even _wanted_ to see him as a boyfriend.

And I don't think I was his girlfriend.

But there was something going on, I'm sure of that.

The old loner in me, the part of me that's good at detecting moods, could feel something there, in him. Curiosity I think and a mild concern perhaps and an expectation, as though, if I were just to change a little bit, and I'm not sure in what way, that he could see himself falling in love with me.

Unless it wasn't a small change needed in me.

But one in him.

Perhaps that was it. That he was holding something back too, in the same way I was.

That hint of sadness…

It's funny, how we dance these strange dances, round and around, each person trying to understand the other. It's like we're both helping the other to finish a jig-saw puzzle and yet we each have, tucked away in one hand behind our back, a couple of the pieces.

Hm, yes, that's how I felt about Asaba.

Both of us were holding something back.

- - - oOo - - -

But he could be, at times, the perfect gentleman.

It was my stop. He lived further west along the Nambu Line, in the direction of Tachikawa but he'd not said where and I didn't want to enquire in case it made me look curious. Not a path I wanted to tread just yet.

The train was slowing. I got up.

"Good night, Sakana."

" 'Night Asaba. Arigato, I enjoyed today."

"Did you? I thought I'd made a complete mess of things."

"No, not at all. It was all my fault, please forgive me. Nothing to do with you. I need a while to think some things through, that's all. And I'd love to go out with you again soon."

"You would? That's great. But of course, it is _me_ after all, so I shouldn't really be surprised that you're desperate for my company."

He grinned one of his big cheesy grins.

"That's more like it. That's the Asaba I love."

"Love?"

"Yeah, love, as in 'putting up with a complete jerk for the sake of humouring him' kind of love, you know?"

"I understand," he smiled again, "you're not able to speak your true feelings. You are constantly struggling, overwhelmed in my presence. It happens to most girls."

"Baka!"

"Well, bye, get home safely."

"Bye, bye."

The train stopped, the doors hissed open.

He suddenly got up from his seat.

"Would you call me, please? When you get home? I'd like to know you're safe."

"Really? You would?"

"Hai."

I frowned at him. What was this?

"Okay, sure."

That final thought really left a nice feeling inside me. He'd actually been a total gentleman towards me all day. Even in the bowling alley he'd really been very nice and all the misunderstanding was my fault.

I walked home thinking:

_Damn, you're so nice. And I just can't love you. _

I closed my front door and leaned back on it and felt inside myself for emotions towards him.

No. Nothing.

Sure I _liked_ him. I could laugh with him, and be impossibly infuriated with his antics and be embarrassed by him and absolutely like everything about him.

And his physical closeness was exciting. I knew it was, I wasn't so stupid as to not recognize what those feelings were.

But deep inside there were no strong emotions.

I let my thoughts swing to Maho and at once the feeling was different, completely different. A great surge of things came up inside me. I became excited just thinking of her, emotionally unbalanced.

_That_ was love.

So what was I doing going out with a guy who physically excited me?

I don't know what I'm doing, unless it's some way of proving something to myself.

Unless this two-way thing is fulfilling a deep need I have that I haven't yet understood.

Puzzled and a little confused I dialled his mobile.

"Hi. I'm home."

"Good. Make sure you lock up. And next time I'll walk you home. I don't like you going home in the dark alone."

"Who do you think you are?" I said with mock indignation, but inside I was smiling, "My boyfriend or something?"

"Ciao. Sweet dreams."

" 'Night."

What an angel.

I locked up, thinking of him.

And I went to bed thinking of him too.

- - - oOo - - -

_4 - 5 June 2007 _

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum. I use a few casual/greeting words here just for fun, to vary the opening of the conversation. _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Five, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	36. Days Of Wonder 2: Body Boarding Babe

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Six – Days Of Wonder #2: Body Boarding Babe **

_Little surfer, little one,  
Made my heart come all undone.  
Do you love me, do you surfer girl?  
Surfer girl, my little surfer girl._

_I have watched you on the shore,  
Standing by the ocean's roar.  
Do you love me, do you surfer girl?  
Surfer girl, surfer girl._

- Beach Boys, Surfer Girl  


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two or three days later, very early in the morning, he phoned again.

Something made me wonder about these two and three day gaps.

What did he get up to on his own? _Was_ he on his own? Who was he with?

"Ohayo!" he was full of sunshine as usual.

"Moshimoshi!"

"Right, today are you free?"

"I am, what's happening? Are we going to do homework together?"

There was a strange noise on the other end of the line that sounded remarkably like vomiting.

"Ah… well… homework. I have a better idea."

"Let me guess. It involves minimal amounts of clothing, yes?"

"Well, my gorgeous little lady, I won't disappoint. I know you think I'm some sort of luuurve monster whose entire life revolves around nudity and mmm… debauchery so no longer will I beat about the bush… today is beach day. You're gonna get to see the _real_ me, in all my body boarding glory. I know a great beach at Kamakura."(1)

Hm, how much physical contact would be involved here?

I was on my guard at once.

Oh, well, I thought. I had to confront and overcome these demons one day, there was no percentage in hanging around for weeks pretending I'd sorted myself out. I was in a good mood too, my period had just ended for another month and I was always on a bit of a high when all that grotty stuff was over with for a few weeks.

Plus I'd just had a good couple of days of studying when I had wanted to swim but hadn't been able to so I deserved a break.

"Okay, I suppose it had to happen one day. Let's get it over with then. Just make sure it's a nice busy beach. I don't want you taking me miles to some isolated little cove where no-one will hear my screams."

"Screams of pleasure."

"I was thinking more of screams of horror as you undress, but sure, whatever. As you wish."

"And please don't wear your nuclear fallout safety suit, hm?"

"We'll see. I'm not promising anything. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Just your delicious firm body. And a towel. I'm taking some boards and a picnic. Can you be at Musashi-Kosugi station by nine?"

_Firm?_ Did he just describe me as _firm?_ Was my face going pink already?

"I can, but I'd better get going now."

"Sure – see you then."

All the time while getting dressed I was chuckling to myself.

_Firm…? _

- - - oOo - - -

The whole of Tokyo seemed to be on holiday. The big wide flat Kamakura beach was crowded. It's not until you see several miles of beach a half mile deep packed end to end with bodies that you get an idea of how vast a city Tokyo is.

And this didn't include the millions still back there keeping the economy turning.

It's a big place is Tokyo.

Asaba found us a spot and hired a beach umbrella.

We lay out towels and he put down his plastic coolbox and got us some nice cold cans out. We sat in the shade and drank.

Lovely. Despite the crowds, lovely.

"Well, come on then."

He stood up and dropped his shorts and pulled his shirt over his head.

Yeah, alright, so I watched. So bite me.

It's funny, seeing him indoors at the pool wasn't anything special at all. But here on the sand, in the sunshine and with the sea nearby and all the smells of the ocean and the feel of the wind, the natural elements worked together to add something lacking from chlorine-scented indoor swimming and undressing.

Well, okay, first thing is at the pool you undress separately in changing rooms. Seeing him strip in front of me certainly was a part of the whole thing. It was an animal thing, a base nature thing wasn't it?

It's the difference between seeing a tiger in a cage at a zoo sitting there looking bored out of it's head and seeing TV footage of one hunting in Africa rushing through the grass and ripping an antelope to pieces or something.

Sure, it's exactly the same animal but in the two sets of circumstances there is no comparison.

If Asaba was cute in the city, in a swimming pool, or as Urban Boy in his hoodie and baseball cap, then that was Caged Tiger Asaba.

Today I met someone else.

I don't think you need all the details do you?

Let me just say that by the time he was down to his swim shorts and standing there holding a board and urging me to come with him into the water, a passing of… what? Thirty seconds? I had come round to really regretting wearing one of the bikinis he'd bought me. Because I felt he might actually see the instant changes his undressing and standing there had caused in my body.

It really was _that_ bad. There he was, Antelope Ripping Asaba.

I've never before wanted so much to be an antelope.

I sat there, _wanting_ him.

That's all I can say to describe that sensation.

Oh, Maho…

I'm betraying you…

How can I love you yet feel…

…this?

I wanted his eyes on me, his hands on me.

I was confused.

"Come on, sleepyhead, get with it. I've shown you mine, now show me yours."

There was no escaping this was there?

And guilty as I felt.

As though I was betraying Maho.

I did it. It took a lot of effort. I was stupid, I made it worse than it need have been.

"Don't watch me!"

My voice had taken on a strange squeaky tone, as though it's owner might be veering on the bladder releasing side of panic.

"Why not? You watched me."

"I didn't!"

"You did. I saw you."

"Please, you're embarrassing me."

"Good."

He grinned and stood there, hands on hips, his board tucked under one arm, feet planted apart, waiting.

"Damn you, Asaba, you're horrible sometimes."

"If it's so horrible, you stay there dressed and I'll go swim."

But despite my bright pink face a part of me wanted this.

He was in control of the situation, the conversation. I was…

…there's that word again…

…submissive.

God, it's such a dirty word isn't it?

But how it excites me.

I'm submissive. I like to submit. Let me submit to you.

Uurrgh…! Inwardly I growled, a growl of both annoyance at my own silliness.

And of excitement.

Him making fun of me and making me awkward and embarrassed and feeling silly.

I liked it.

That was it.

I enjoyed being treated this way.

I'm weirder than I thought.

Wanting this, wanting his eyes on me, wanting to be his antelope, I got up off my towel.

He stood, calmly watching.

"Well, you're no gentleman are you?"

"Nope." He smiled again, enjoying this.

I undid the stud on my shorts and pulled the zipper down. They were a good fit. I had to wiggle a lot to get them off my hips.

And as I wiggled, of course, everything else wobbled.

Hm, it was getting worse and worse.

Antelope, antelope…

The shorts came down, I stepped out of them, threw them behind me on the towel.

Next, the worst bit.

The tee shirt.

There was only one thing for it.

Cross my arms in front, grab the hem and lift.

I didn't do it _deliberately_ slowly.

Well, not much.

The shirt came off over my head. I dropped that with the shorts.

I looked at him.

"Here."

He held out the second board. I took it and slipped the wrist strap on.

"Let's go! Race you!"

"No way!"

He set off at a run.

So… what happened there then?

Where was the big scene where he ogled my body and made all the pervy lewd comments?

What?

Anticlimax.

I was…

I was… what? Disappointed? Was I really?

Oh, my.

I _am_ weird.

I adjusted the black and yellow striped bikini to make sure everything was in and where it should be and that I was as covered as much as this silly little thing that's supposed to be a swim suit _would_ cover me and walked after him.

Absolutely no way on this earth was I running.

It was a big beach, as I said. It felt like it was about five miles to the water.

And with every step I felt men's eyes on me.

Urh, it was like being a model on a catwalk, only not being paid. Not that I'd really want to be paid to have dozens of disgusting men look at me.

Oh, well. Stomach in, chest out, head up. Might as well give them something to look at.

- - - oOo - - -

Ninety minutes later.

It was a ten mile walk back.

Stuff you, you pervs. Look if you like, that's all you're getting.

Back on the towels.

I was exhausted.

_Damn_, that was good.

Ten pin bowling I may be rubbish at. Dancing I may be totally clueless. Trig, algebra and Classical Japanese you can take those and shove them wherever you like.

But me and water… well, that works. It works very well.

It was brilliant.

Body boarding is fantastic. Such a rush when you get a wave right.

I think I might want to even try proper surfing.

There was nothing to it, I picked it up on my third or fourth wave.

After fifteen or twenty minutes I think I was seeing the good waves earlier than Asaba was. I could swim out faster and further than him and catch them as they swelled and began. Jump aboard, paddle, line up, check behind, feel the swell lift and begin to roll.

And go.

Yeah, no problem.

It was great.

Great surf here. Waves all the way from the Philippines I think.

Asaba was pretty good too. But no bragging, honestly, given a few days I think I could be better than him.

Secretly I think he was more into the posing side of the sport.

The après ski, to horribly abuse a metaphor.

He plopped down beside me, leaned back on his hands.

Rivulets of water trickled down his chest, his flanks.

"Whoo-hoo! That was good."

"Yeah. Arigato! I really enjoyed that."

"So, you like body boarding then? I've sold you on it have I?"

"Oh, yeah, brilliant. But your technique you know… it could be improved."

He frowned at me. I smiled back.

"When you jump on, you tend to pull the board towards you a little, you pull it back so it starts on the wave slope stationary. You need to push off more aggressively with your legs, push the board with you so that as soon as you're on, you're already accelerating."

"I'm sorry, I didn't see any experts wander up dressed like you and take your place just then."

"You weren't paying attention then," I grinned, "No, seriously, try it next time, when you jump, push the board away rather than pull it towards you."

"I should have known, you and water, that you'd get the hang of it."

"Thank you very much for bringing me. It's great here."

"Beats homework then?"

I thought hard.

"Not if you were studying with me, that would be just as much fun."

"You're very odd."

"Well, I like being with you, so I must be. I'm hungry, what's in the box?"

Under the shade of the parasol we sat cross-legged and ate and drank. Lots of mineral water. I was gasping.

I watched him from time to time.

His skin was amazing, the colour of toffee and smooth and shiny like toffee too.

I wonder if it tasted of…?

Mine on the other hand was the colour of pastry. Bleurgh.

You know, I don't think I have ever sunbathed before.

And do you know, he hardly looked at me at all. I was expecting him to let his eyes wander all over the place, but when he looked at me he looked right in my eyes. That horrible walk down the beach, all the guys were staring at my chest and my crotch but Asaba didn't do that. To him I was a person.

And that was really nice.

That was maybe the nicest part of that nice day.

While we'd been in the sea, when he'd talked to me he talked to _me_. Not to my breasts.

Of course I didn't have eyes in the back of my head and couldn't watch him all the time. And of course I was guilty of looking at him sometimes, but even so, again I felt he was a really nice guy. A gentleman. Trustworthy.

Earlier on with the undressing thing, I think that had all been just a game, a bit of fun. He wasn't really a pervy sex-fiend, he just liked to play it like he was.

- - - oOo - - -

And it was because he was such a nice guy that I began to feel guilty.

What was I doing here?

Using him.

That's all.

He was just a distraction to me, something to occupy my mind to save me going insane thinking about _her._

And that wasn't really fair was it?

And yet.

Something else now.

Something really earthy and basic.

The old tiger and antelope business.

And especially that hot unnecessary feeling – that desire to submit.

Yes, I like him. Yes, he's fun. Yes, he's kind.

And yes…

I think…

I want him.

_This isn't friendship is it Sakana? _

No.

Well. I suppose it is _now_.

But I want.

_More_.

- - - oOo - - -

After lunch I was on my front, head resting on my forearms. Dozing.

I could feel the sun on me.

It was lovely.

There's no denying it, lying in the sun almost naked is simply sexy. It was making me feel _that_ way.

But I was going to burn.

And after all my fears and worries and embarrassment.

After all the times I'd been scared that _he_ would be the one to make the first move.

He wasn't the one.

He didn't make that move.

I did.

Miss Shy Overweight Spotty Loser of March 1995 had, after just four months, turned into someone else entirely.

Miss Less-Shy Reasonably Shaped Clear-Skinned Desperate Bisexual Antelope of July 1995.

That's who I was now.

I just wanted to experience something new.

"Asaba-kun?"

"Hm?"

"I'm burning."

"Hm? What?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was on his back beside me, arms behind his head.

"Rub some oil on me please?"

There was no jokey reaction. No games, no silly voices and messing about. No Casanova nonsense.

He sat up.

"Sure."

He got the bottle from the bag.

"Whereabouts?"

"Legs please. And back."

"Okay."

And that was all. He got to work.

He didn't speak. Nor did I. I just lay there and let the feelings and sensations and then later, the emotions, run through me. He was very gentle, starting on my feet (even doing the soles so they didn't burn) and moving up my calves and the backs of my knees to my thighs.

Straight away I guessed he'd done this before simply by the way he moved his hands. He wasn't silly about it or hesitant or teen-boyishly dorky. He just did it, carefully, smoothly, unhurriedly.

That was one of the things that made me think he'd done this to someone else. Lots of times. Because he wasn't nervous and didn't rush. He took it all slowly and surely.

By the time he was halfway up my thighs I was purring like a cat. Without wanting to pollute the moment with words I wanted to show him I was okay with this. So I parted my legs a little. Just my ankles apart another six inches or so.

As soon as I did that he stopped. Both his hands were on my legs most of the way up and he rested them there for about twenty seconds.

I have no idea if anything was showing or not, or where he was looking.

Then his hands moved on.

Upwards.

I'd told him, without saying anything, that I was enjoying it.

And without saying anything either he'd just told me he'd got my message.

He reached the tops of my legs.

And surprised me by smearing sun cream right up to the edge of my bikini bottoms.

As you know it was the yellow and black striped one he'd bought me.

And of course, being his choice it was tiny. There was a good deal of bottom on show beyond that silly triangle of material.

The way he touched me there, again without hurrying and without reducing the steady pressure told me a lot.

His hands went.

Close.

Very close.

Dipping in between.

Very, _very_ close to me.

The centre of me.

My eyes were squeezed shut.

I wasn't just purring now.

I was a cat drowning in cream. And I'd lost a couple of lives already.

No one else had ever done this.

Only me.

And that doesn't count.

I was waiting for the fear and panic to kick in. The sensation of loathing and nausea that I get when I think of men.

Ever since The Incident I've feared men. That event corrupted my whole approach to them.

I was sure I'd start to panic and feel that awful burning churning sensation that tells you you're going to throw up.

But it never happened.

I don't know why.

His fingers moved away, came around to my hips and began to work up my sides.

Then a squirt of cream on my lower back, up my back.

"Oi! Rrrrrrr, cold!"

"Gomen."

That was all. He carried on.

My hips, my waist, the very base of my spine.

His fingers slid under the waistband of the briefs and I felt them just brush the shaped part of me where my bottom begins.

I was biting my knuckles now to keep quiet.

My God this was good. Far gooder that it deserved to be, than it ought to be. Too much goodness.

I had an image in my head of an antelope grazing in the long grass. And a little way off, downwind, a tiger stalking it.

Were we playing that game?

Was this the beginning of the kill?

Up my back he moved his warm firm hands where my body swelled out from my waist.

"Uh…"

"Yes?"

"If it's in the way… you can… uhm (I coughed) untie my top."

No reply.

Sakana, you're terrible. There's rude words to describe girls like you.

Then his fingers were there. Unknotting the knot. The one on the string that went behind me…

And then the knot at the nape of my neck, moving my hair aside.

He dropped the strings away.

I kept still.

More icy cold cream.

Another groaning shudder from me.

His hands came back on my upper back and shoulders.

So this is how it feels.

Being caressed.

Every nerve was tingling. I was on edge.

Then his hands…

…went down…

…and around…

…to the sides.

Oh my God…

My breaths must be audible now. I sounded like an old woman who'd smoked 40 a day all her life, wheezing and rasping.

Surely he could hear what he was doing to me?

Do you know what I wanted to do?

What I almost did do?

I wanted to raise myself up on my elbows a little.

So his hands could reach down. And under. And cup…

And God, and _squeeze_…

But with a great almost audible grunt of willpower I kept still and kept my chest flat on the ground.

His hands left my sides and he began to massage my shoulders.

"You're tense."

Was all he said.

I had to agree.

"Hm, your muscles are all messed up here."

Not just there my friend. The ones on the tips of my breasts are pretty tense right now too. And some others…

"May I? I need to do something with these knotted up shoulders of yours."

"Yes… just don't ask me to turn over."

"No. I can deal with it here. Unfold your arms. Lay them down by your sides."

I did so.

He got to work.

My God he was damn good at this too.

"Try and relax."

_Urh, easy for you to say… _

I began to un-tense and unfold. I could feel the muscles yielding, he knew what he was doing.

I let out a big sigh.

"Mmm, you're good. Who do you practice on?"

"I took a course. I didn't get this good just messing about."

"Mm, 's nice…"

I was unwinding, relaxing. Hm, I could go to sleep…

He patted my back.

"All done."

"Urgh… you stopped too soon. More. I want more."

"Don't be greedy! Some other time."

"Arigato, Asaba. That was so nice."

"My pleasure."

He sat next to me and oiled himself then lay back.

- - - oOo - - -

Leaving me lying there, hanging on the edge wanting _more_, wanting him to bloody well get his fingers back over here _now_ and damn well _finish_ what he'd started.

Even if my bikini top had been done up properly, no way could I have rolled over just then.

"WARNING: SLIPPERY WHEN WET" was the silly sign on the front of my bikini briefs. Now I knew what the joke meant.

For God's sake, Asaba, you can't do that to a girl and then just leave her... rrrrrrrrr...

Or was that your intention right from the start?

- - - oOo - - -

After a few minutes he turned onto his side and propped his head up on one elbow.

"I've worked it out."

I turned my head to face him, lay my cheek on the towel. My arms were still down by my sides.

I waited for him to explain and gave him an arched eyebrow to show I was listening.

"Why I like you."

_Oh yes? _

"It can't be my money."

"No."

"It can't be my outrageous 24/7 party antelope lifestyle."

"Your what?"

"Animal. Party _animal_ lifestyle."

He frowned at me.

"No. Not that either, whatever kind of animal you are."

"I doubt it's my National League ten-pin bowling skills."

"That's your closest guess yet."

"It is?"

I had an impulse to lift myself up on my elbows and give him a stare but remembered just in time that due to the fact that my bikini top was no longer on me, but rather I was on _it_, that that might not be an altogether sensible move.

"You're different all the time."

"I am?"

"Hm, sometimes you're really jokey and can answer me back really fast. You're quick witted. I like that. Sometimes you just get stupidly, stupidly shy and go pink at the least provocation."

"I don't count being physically manhandled in a bowling alley a 'least provocation'."

"Ah, you see. That's my point. It is. It's nothing really but you get so worked up about it. I don't mind it at all. I think it's really cute. Actually I like that in you a lot. When your face goes pink you're really pretty."

My face went pink.

He smiled.

"There. Look at that. Beautiful."

"Stop it, I'll go even pinker."

"Mmm, wonderful. Please," he gestured in an off-hand way, "you carry on. I'll just pull up another bottle of iced tea and watch."

"Stop it. You're rotten to me sometimes."

"And then again, at other times you can be so quiet and serious. I like that too."

"You mean boring. I'm boring."

"No. The exact opposite. I mean you can be very sensible and hold up a conversation. Or at times just remain quiet. That's rare in a girl."

"Oh, right. You make us sound like a lower order of animals. Chattering monkeys or something."

"No, it's just that the girls I meet in places like this," he waved his hand, "and in clubs aren't into deep conversation. They want jokes and fun all the time."

"You meet lots of girls, hm?"

"It's like Arima. I like him for that reason too. He can be so quiet and serious. Some days at lunch we sit together on the school roof and don't say anything. We just sit and keep each other company. It's great like that. I feel no compulsion to talk for the sake of talking. Nor does he. You're like that. Then again, if I want to have a conversation like this with you, I can. I play the fool a lot of the time. That's the way I've become in reaction to my dad. Because he's got no sense of fun in him at all, I grew up being deliberately light hearted. I think it was a spite thing at first, to make fun of him or maybe to prove I was going to not be like that. You know?"

I did know. I exactly know-ed. I hmm-hmm'd an agreement.

"I can talk to Arima about my dad and he understands how he feels, because he's a quiet serious person too, he can see my dad's take on stuff, yeah?"

"Hm."

"So, I like that in a person. I like that in you, too."

_Where are you going with this? _

"And I like your shy side and your silly side and your humour. You feed me in different ways to how Arima does. Or Miyazawa. She's hardly ever serious. Or if she is, it's only with Arima, she never shows me a serious side. I think that might be because she thinks I'll get too close to her, the real, sensitive her."

"Asaba?"

"Hideaki. Onegai, it's Hideaki."

"That sounds funny. I think of you as Asaba. Or Asapin. Can I call you Asapin?"

"Sure. Miyazawa calls me all kinds of things."

"But you call her Miyazawa."

"Yes. Because of Arima. Out of respect for him. I show them both that I don't want to be too close, its how our three way relationship works."

"You call me by my given name."

"I do."

"You want to get close to me?"

He smiled a lovely gentle smile. And yet remained completely serious.

"Yes."

I wondered then, I seriously wondered. If I could love him.

"Are you using me?"

I didn't think he was the kind of boy to really get serious about me. I just didn't see his type going for my type. So I expected him to deny it. What he said shocked me.

"Don't we all do that? Don't we all, when it comes to the final reckoning use people for our own purposes? We fall in love because we don't want to be lonely. We choose friends because they give us something we want or need. It's like going to different stores to buy different goods. If I wanted a CD I wouldn't waste my time in a furniture store."

His honesty cut into me. So much, I was so surprised, that this time when the thought of rising up on my elbows came to me I didn't stop to consider what would happen. I lifted myself up and stared at him.

"Are you saying… _I'm_ using _you_?"

"Of course. You want a CD Sakana. You want one badly. But you're in a furniture store. Please. I don't mean to cause offence. Please don't be cross with me. I'm not offended either, that you're doing this. We can talk can't we? You and I?"

"Yes."

He looked down at my breast, He stared carefully at it for a few seconds. Then he looked back at me and smiled kindly again.

"Lie down. There's a creepy guy watching you."

I lay down, looked around.

"Where?"

"Right here," his smile became a big grin.

"Arigato," I smiled.

"No problem."

"You're way too cute."

Asapin wasn't creepy. He'd stared at my bare body and yet I hadn't felt embarrassed under his gaze.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That… uh… that I want a CD and I'm in the wrong store?"

"Because I know you don't want to get close to me, and yet you are."

Oh thank God. Thank God for that. I thought he knew I was in love with Maho. I thought Yukino may have told him. So this was about _him_.

But even so, I was afraid. Too much, too soon.

I chose not to answer him.

"Gomen. I've offended you."

"No. It's just this is rather heavy stuff. Rather fast."

"I'll stop."

"No, please. I'm enjoying this. You're an interesting person to talk to. You don't offend me, but you're rather blunt."

"I think that might have come out of a reaction to my dad as well. He'd never say things to my face, but would insinuate stuff and slyly work around the subject, you know? I hate that. I'm more direct."

"I understand."

There was quiet for a while. It was a nice quiet, during it I felt no need to fill it with words. I looked at him. I didn't smile. He looked back and he didn't smile either.

Those thirty seconds were really nice. I understood what he meant when he said he could be like this with Arima. Wow, this was odd. Boy with boy, very close, a deep understanding. I wanted that, only girl with girl.

"I'm afraid today I can't tell you what I'm doing in this furniture store. And although I could ask for directions to a record shop, I don't want to leave. I know now exactly why I'm here. Only… please don't ask me."

All of a sudden a gentle wave of sadness came over me and my heart became heavy. I knew now what I was doing. I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I was pretty sure I would. Maybe not me but possibly Asapin, and possibly my future (if there was one) with Maho.

I loved her. I loved her so much.

But I was afraid. Loving a girl was hard for me to accept. I was fighting against convention. The little man wouldn't turn green for me but I still needed to cross the road.

So I was doing this. I was here, looking at furniture when I should run to the CD store.

I was with Asapin when I should go now, right now, and run into Maho's arms.

I had originally told myself that I'd come to Asapin to avoid the pain of wanting Maho and not having the guts to tell her. A distraction so I didn't have to face up to the fact I was a coward.

That wasn't the case though, was it? Was it Sakana?

You're here to prove a point to yourself. You're here to decide if you're a lesbian or not aren't you? This is what this is all about. You're here because you want to make love to him.

That's right, isn't it?

I wanted to make love to him.

But I didn't love him.

How is that possible? Making love without being in love is one of those broken word rules.

An oxymoron.

If I didn't love him, and I lay down with him it wouldn't be making love.

It would be having sex.

And when that thought bubbled up inside me I felt dirty.

And horrible and nauseous.

_Having sex._ It's just a revolting phrase and a revolting image.

Sweaty bodies, sticky fluids and no real passion, no caring, no sharing, no respect, no devotion, no. Love.

I was reminded of my brother…

- - - oOo - - -

I lay my head on the towel and closed my eyes.

Sadness.

"There is another reason I like you."

I kept my eyes shut.

"You're changing. You have the ability to change. You're changing yourself. By your own willpower you have changed, this semester from a not especially attractive person who was pathologically shy into someone who is quite simply beautiful. Not only physically – not only have you lost a lot of weight and got yourself into good condition with your swimming and running, and your skin is nicer. And your hair. But your mind has improved. I saw your end of term exam ranking. You must be proud of that.

"But as well as all that, you've come out of your shell. You talk to people, you laugh, you joke, you accept dates from notoriously creepy loose-moralled guys. I like you for that, for your strength. For your confidence. Sakana, please look at me."

With a big sigh I opened my eyes. I didn't want to because tears were welling up in them.

"Sakana, I like you a lot. An awful lot. I'd like to go out with you a lot more. Swimming, dancing, anything. Hell, I'll even do homework with you."

"Do you love me?"

Bang, there it was, out it came, big and fat and pregnant.

"I love lots of things about you. When you blush you're lovely…"

"That isn't what I asked."

"Gomen. It's the only answer I can give."

"You don't love me?"

"I have never loved any girl. Or boy for that matter."

"Never? You must have. Lots."

"No. Not one. I've liked hundreds. One or two I've liked very much. Almost as much as I like you. But I have never fallen in love. I will one day. I know I will. Out there, somewhere is a girl I will fall in love with, but I've never met her. She's very special. I have no idea what she's like but the day I see her I'll know."

A tear leaked out of me. Not because of the words he was saying (which were beautiful even though they hurt) but because he sounded so very sad. He was breaking my heart. So heaven knows how he was feeling.

"She's a lucky girl. Very lucky. But it's not me?"

"I'm sorry, no. Not you."

"Don't be upset. I don't love you either. You know, I'd like to, but I just can't. You're not quite who I'm looking for."

"That's good. I'm glad."

"Why?"

"Because I was worried that you were falling in love with me. And I couldn't return your love. And then we'd both get hurt."

"I like you a lot, Asapin. Lots and lots."

"I like you too Sakana."

"That's good then. Everybody's happy."

"I think so."

"Yes."

And I burst into tears.

"Hey, shush, what is it?"

"I… I want to… love you. But I can't. I'm just not able to…"

"Shush now, shush."

He leaned forward and put a hand on my shoulder. Human contact. God how much I needed it.

"You see. I love… someone else. But they don't love me. I don't think they can ever love me…"

I couldn't go on, my crying became worse.

He slid over beside me and lay against me, putting his arm across my shoulders. His face pressed into my hair.

"Shush, pretty lady, quiet now. I'm sure he'll love you. Given time. Just be nice to him, whoever he is."

And that only made it worse.

"Please, help me put my top on."

"Hm, sure."

He knotted my bikini back up.

I sat up.

"Gomen, gomen. I've done it again. Can we go home?"

"Of course."

- - - oOo - - -

_6 - 7 June 2007_

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum._

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Six, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	37. Days Of Wonder 3: Beg Me To Touch You

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Seven – Days Of Wonder #3: Beg Me To Touch You**

"_I think lots of what we do, how we behave is driven by events within our families."_

- Asaba Hideaki, July 1995

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He got off at my stop and true to his word walked me home.

It didn't occur to me until we were at my door that it wasn't actually night time.

It was barely mid afternoon of a lovely hot July day.

"Come on in, if you want."

I got us some cold drinks and we sat outside on the back porch.

I had been quiet on the train and the walk home, and I was quiet now.

After that stupid-ness at the beach I couldn't think of anything to say.

Finally.

"You must think me very dull and silly for spoiling two of our days out."

He was quiet for a moment. He leaned back on his hands, looked at the fence at the bottom of the garden and in a thoughtful voice said;

"I remember very clearly my first date. I got a slap across the face after fifteen minutes and she stormed out of the movie theatre."

"Really? What did you do?"

"Ha, you don't want to know. But I wasn't watching the movie."

He chuckled.

"And my next date lasted nearly an hour before I ended up with an ice cream sundae poured over my head. Yeah, that was okay though because it was a very hot day."

"You said the wrong thing to her again?"

"What do you mean 'again'? The girl in the movie theatre never came near me after that. Ice cream sundae girl was the second girl I went out with and the second I annoyed so much we never spoke again."

I looked at him. He was thinking hard, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He looked so cute, his brain hard at work, it was enough to make me cross. People have no right to look cute just by thinking.

"Now then, girl three. At least I got through the whole afternoon with her. But then we were just sat on her mom's sofa watching TV. So she didn't hit me or run out or throw food over me. But basically nothing happened and we didn't have a second date."

"Oh, dear, you weren't very lucky were you?"

He turned to look at me.

That slightly sad feeling was back in his eyes again.

"It's nothing to do with luck. It's to do with the jerk I was back then. Now you – well, you've had three dates. Your first three. And you've not been slapped, or eaten ice cream sundaes in interesting ways or bored your date stupid watching daytime TV _and_ the same guy has come back to ask you out again. So, all in all, I think you're doing pretty damn good. Better than I ever did," he smiled, "So, Sakana. I don't want to hear any rubbish about you being dull or silly or ruining dates. It's not true. So just stop saying it. It takes an expert like me to do that."

"Arigato. You're very kind. But I'm not a confident person. I always think when things go wrong that it's my fault. Because usually it is."

"And, it took me about six or eight dates with one particular girl before I realized she was interesting enough and gorgeous enough for me to want to kiss her. It's never happened after three before."

He got up.

"Have you any more iced barley tea?" he asked

I looked at him.

"Kiss her?"

"It's okay, I'll go fix myself another. You want one?"

"Sure."

I sat watching the lawn being the lawn and wondered if I'd heard him right.

It was still sunny and I thought of getting a towel out and sunbathing but being alone with him now I wasn't sure that would be sending the right message. So I didn't. I didn't have a clue what to do, and I didn't think daytime TV would be high on his wish list.

"Hey, you have a music centre right?"

"Yup."

"Let's dance then. I'll teach you."

"Uh…" good idea or not? "Are you going to put your arms around me again?"

He drew himself up to his full height and looked very proper and sensible. He put a hand over his heart, raising his chin like a soldier on parade.

"I promise you I won't lay a hand on you, not on a single part of your enticing cuteness. You have my solemn word."

"Hmmm…I can't trust you. There's gotta be a catch. What about other rude parts of your body?"

"Very well my cutie. You have Asaba Hideaki's sworn vow, that no part of my anatomy will touch yours. Unless you ask me to."

"Um, okay then."

"You will of course want me to. Later," he grinned in his evil perverted way, "And by then of course, I'll insist that you beg me to."

- - - oOo - - -

He carefully lifted the big mirror off the hallway wall and carried it into the library. By pushing furniture aside we made a clear space and he set the mirror against the bookshelves at one end. From his rucksack he took out a soft wallet of CDs he carried for his personal player.

I dropped the bamboo blinds down over the shutters. The room became gloomy.

"Right. First of all, I'll put something on and you just watch me, okay? I want you to just get into the mood of this music to begin with, the style and beat. This is the stuff I dance to down at the club."

"Right."

Suddenly my house was full of – well I don't know what it was but it certainly wasn't J-Pop and it certainly wasn't Joe Hisaishi or even Yoko Kanno for that matter.

A measured low deep bass beat filled the room. Asapin cranked up the volume and the treble and bass until I felt the floor vibrating. The deep throbbing swelling beat got louder then increased its pace and a staccato electric drum rhythm slid into hearing over the top of it and that got louder and sped up too. Something began that sounded like a cat having excess water wrung out of it but which I think was a modified woman's voice looping over and over.

I could feel my speakers being destroyed. I could see the Yen signs of the replacement cost going up before my eyes.

Asaba stood still in the middle of the room and began to do things with just his arms, raising them, weaving them around his head in a sort of mystical style. Then the beat ripped open and the music just went mental, much louder, much faster and painfully punchy. His feet began to move and although he twisted and turned and did things a lot with his arms and upper body, and hips, especially the hips, he didn't use any floor space.

I began to tap my toes. The music was crazy. I was glad we had a fairly large detached house, the sound through an adjoining wall would have had the neighbours round in five minutes.

And that was my innocent introduction, at the tender age of fifteen years and eleven months to trance music. Asaba apparently danced to a lot of trance, garage, hip-hop and techno, so I later found out.

And I didn't really mind if I learned to dance or not.

What I wanted to do was watch him.

He was fantastic. He moved so smoothly and confidently. I'm going to use some very bad language here but please forgive me because this is how I felt.

He was. Simply. Fucking. Amazing.

The guy should be on TV.

My jaw was lying on the floor, I was stunned. He was _that _good.

Now I knew why he had such rubbish grades at school. Bowling, body boarding, finding good restaurants, becoming an expert at women's swimwear and now dancing. I think he'd been having a hell of a lot more fun this last semester than I had.

And that afternoon and evening he taught me.

In front of that big old mirror my mother used to do her hair in, and brush mine in when I was six.

I wasn't that good. It takes a while to lower your guard and shake away your nerves and embarrassment and self-conscious baggage to do any kind of dancing, if you've never danced before. And that doesn't count for this stuff, because once a trance beat really plugs into you, you have to completely give yourself up to it. You have to put aside every single thing, every thought, every worry about how you look, whether anyone is watching you, and stuff like that.

- - - oOo - - -

Let me see, it must have been coming up to five o'clock when we started. We fell apart and collapsed on the tatamis around eight or just after. Over three hours of hard exercise.

I wasn't exhausted but I needed a breather. My shorts and tee shirt had become soaked through with sweat and I'd got rid of the shorts at some point. They fit too well and were restricting me. Asaba had ditched his clothing ages ago and was dancing in just his swim shorts.

I got us yet another jug of iced water and had to refill the ice maker, we'd been drinking that much fluid.

"Are you hungry yet?"

"Oh, yeah, let's eat."

Once again, despite my hostess insistence he firmly brushed me aside and made us a meal. He didn't cook but got salads and pickles and some sushi and cold meats and cold rice from the fridge and did things with it and cheered it all up.

I'd got us a couple of clean towels and he wore one around his shoulders while he worked, wiping his face from time to time.

"Don't eat much," he wagged a finger accusingly in my face, "you can't dance on a full stomach, you'll puke. Just a little. We can leave the food out and pick at it as we need to."

"Hm, whatever."

"Any beer left?"

"Yes, there's three left from what you bought the other day. I haven't touched them."

He got one and cracked it open.

"Want some?"

I shook my head.

"Well, actually. Wait."

I got lemonade from the fridge and poured half a glass full. He topped it up with beer. Glass clinked on can.

Alcohol. The first I'd ever tasted. I can't say I was a great fan of the flavour but I wanted to stay in this mood, this great mood he'd created out of a really dodgy moment in the middle of a dodgy broken dead-end afternoon when I was feeling really down. And beer seemed a good idea.

"Parents not at home again?"

"No."

"They seem to be away a lot."

"Yes. Uh, actually I live on my own."

He put the can down.

"You do? You never said."

"You never asked. I don't like to tell people."

"Are they…separated?"

"Dead. Mum died of cancer when I was eight. Dad of a heart attack when I was twelve."

"Oh. Gomen nasai."

"Arigato. But it's stuff long gone. You know I don't really miss them. We were never a close family."

"So how come you're living here alone?"

"Dad's will stipulated that the house shouldn't be sold until all the children were eighteen. And his life insurance payment was big. Enough to maintain the house and give me an allowance. With plenty spare; some went to my sis, some to my brother. The rest is held in investments for me for when I'm eighteen. The house is actually owned a third by sis, a third by my brother and a third held in trust for me. My sis keeps an eye on me, keeps in touch."

"I didn't know you had a brother and sister."

"Hm. Twins. They're both a lot older than me. Sis is married and lives in Tama. My brother works on ships. Oil tankers. He's abroad now, I don't know where."

_And I don't want to talk about him, okay?_

A few minutes silence. Asaba seemed to have this very useful and very kind ability to shut up when I needed him to.

He drained his beer.

"Now, back to the dance floor."

He changed CDs. Something new began. This was different. It was still painfully loud and electronic but this was nice. It was smooth and had a gentle flowing pulsing beat.

"This is techno beatz," he shouted, "it'll just go on building and flowing and changing for a long while. There's basically only one track on this CD, it runs for forty minutes changing and doing different things. You can do so much with this. You can do an energy dance to it and burn yourself out in twenty minutes or you can do a spiritual thing and just let your soul tune in to whatever the music is saying. And go gently."

I wasn't completely convinced, he sounded like a doorstep cultist.

He stood and raised his arms and began to sway about and flow and bend and roll his head and hips. He became like liquid. It was very unusual and quite pleasing to watch.

No, that's a lie, it was very pleasing to watch.

Hm.

Sorry, I really need to stop deceiving myself.

It was _beautiful_ to watch. He was the fruitiest thing I had ever seen in my life. Not that I've watched that many odd videos in my time I can tell you, but watching him…

It was tiger in Africa time again. He became something primitive. Just the essentials. Antelope Ripping Asaba had entered the building.

My heart beat went up and my breathing rate went with it.

There was something I very much wanted to do.

And it had to be done _right now_.

I took another drink of my shandy, put down the glass and walked over to him, facing him.

- - - oOo - - -

He looked at me, moving swaying.

I looked at him.

The music was doing odd things to me. I was hot again, damp. Urgent. I could feel my pores opening.

I began to move with him, a little way away but trying to flow where he flowed, curve as he curved. He grinned at me and changed his style a little making it easier for me to copy.

Hm, this was good.

But…

I had too many clothes on.

Looking at him I put my hands to the hem of my tee shirt and slowly lifted, pulling it up and over my head and throwing it away.

That was better.

Music like this, a situation like this. It just felt right to have very little clothing on.

In the way, I mean to say.

We moved together for a while. There was no touching, just as he'd promised and we stayed a couple of feet apart.

He moved and I followed.

After a while I simply forgot everything. I knew only that it was night now and the room was dark, lit only from the kitchen across the hallway.

And it was right here.

He was here.

I was here.

We were here, he and I, boy and girl. Everything became painfully, desperately clear to me.

I think we danced for about thirty minutes.

I have never enjoyed myself so much in my life.

And as he promised he didn't touch me.

Not once.

And damn, did that make me so cross.

I wanted him to, he got very close.

At one point I was doing a swaying thing from the hips, my arms up above my head. He came to me and held his hands either side of me and ran them up and down my flanks, but a few inches away. I don't know if that was a dance move or whether he was doing some sort of test, to see if I'd break or something.

I very nearly did.

I almost did.

I almost grabbed his hands and put them on me and wanted him to touch.

But.

Too soon.

Too much.

Even though I wanted it.

A part of me was screaming out to have him touch me.

Another part was holding back, wanting him to stay away.

I was, for fifteen minutes, on a fine thread, unsure which way to fall.

I closed my eyes and moved and felt him moving close by.

Now, unlike at the beach, I could feel his eyes on me.

That made me feel almost as good as if they were his hands.

Almost.

- - - oOo - - -

The music died away. The CD had ended.

It was dark. I stopped moving.

I was exhausted, hot, wet through with sweat.

But happy.

Very happy.

He stood in front of me, still now, just his chest rising and falling, sucking in air.

His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, down one side of his face.

He was close.

I looked at him.

He looked back at me.

You know, I thought, if I wanted to, right now. I could.

I could, you know.

I could.

Kiss you.

His eyes were not wide but partly closed, relaxed.

There was something in them.

That pale sadness was back.

He looked.

How can I describe him?

Lost. Lonely. Vulnerable.

None of those are words I'd ever usually associate with Asaba.

Tonight, though, right here, right now, almost naked and alone with me in my house.

There seemed to be a real part of him, a human open part that was here.

I thought, if I let him, anything could happen.

I lifted a hand, raised it towards one side of his face.

A single finger, towards his hair where it was damply stuck, where it partly obscured one eye.

I reached out.

His hand came up and held mine, an inch or two from his face.

I frowned.

What?

"It's my vow," he said, quietly

I frowned more deeply.

"No part of my anatomy will touch yours, remember?"

I remembered.

"But that had been so you wouldn't touch me, not me you."

"I don't think we qualified that, did we?"

"What are you saying? You're touching me now."

His hand around my wrist. Tight. Strong. In control.

If he were to put his other hand around my other wrist, and hold them wide apart… lift them.

Spread them.

Spread me.

And move his face forwards…

I'd be.

Submitting…

"Only to stop you touching me," his face was still calm, still a little sad.

"Is that what you want? You don't want me to touch you?"

"What do you think is wise to do? Now?"

"I was just going to…"

"What?"

"Move your hair aside."

"Why?"

That was a good question. The answer was, of course simply the touch alone.

Wasn't it?

Not for any other reason.

"I… I wanted to see. Your face."

"You already can. Can't you?"

"Yes."

I had to admit it. He was making me admit it. He was in control here. I had to admit something else too.

I wanted that.

I wanted him in control.

I needed for him to be in control.

And for me to submit.

God, I wanted that.

"Ask me."

"What?"

I didn't understand what he wanted now.

"No part of me will touch you. Unless you ask me. That was what we agreed."

He was right, I think, although I couldn't remember the details.

"Can I?"

"Hm?"

"Can I. Touch you?"

How long was this going to go on for? I felt a trickle of sweat run down from under my chin. Down my neck. It reached my collar bone and ran down. And down. Down between me. The girl parts of me. I looked down and watched the bead of moisture run.

I looked up.

He was looking down there. Watching it trickle.

Looking at me.

Where I curved.

His eyes felt like hands.

I wanted them to be his hands.

I wanted them to be his mouth.

His tongue.

I wanted him on me, his eyes, his hands.

His lips.

I looked at his lips.

How would they taste?

What would a kiss be like?

I had never had one.

A quick peck, from mom, or sis.

And _that_ one, during The Incident.

He looked at my face again. Still solemn, he was, still relaxed, still a little sad.

"You need to beg."

"What?"

"I told you. Before we danced. That you'd want me to touch you."

"I remember."

"And that later it would be different. You need to beg me."

Suddenly something warm was back, something wonderful and wet and hot and insistent. Growing and demanding attention. Down. _There._ The only way to scratch this itch was to make it worse. By making this itch worse it got better, the feeling got stronger, and the stronger it got the more wonderful it got.

I stared at him, I was losing it, losing the ability to think clearly, losing the ability to really care about anything very much.

The thing inside me was just demanding more and more, taking over, taking away my reasons, my reasons not to do things.

And replacing them.

With very good and very urgent reasons to deal with this awful, growing unnecessary heat.

This delicious burning _longing_.

Suddenly the reasons I had, the reasons my own body was giving me, that it would be a very, _very_ good idea indeed to deal with this growing need…

These reasons became stronger, stronger than anything else, above all else it would be…

Beautiful.

To touch him.

And encourage him.

To touch me.

"Onegai," I asked.

He smiled a little.

"That wasn't nearly enough."

_You sod. What do you want me to do, go down on my knees?_

"_Onegai_," I whined, my voice verging on the edge of desperate.

He let go of my wrist.

I dropped my arm to my side.

"_Onegai-desu_, touch me."

Slowly he brought his right hand up. I watched it coming, what would he do? Quite frankly I didn't care, as long as I had blessed contact with him, and from that contact _more_ happened. It was the _more_ that I needed, craved now. I wanted the _more_ to become _enough_. Enough to just let this beautiful burning need be satisfied.

His hand touched my left arm, above the elbow, he rested it there, held me there. I could feel the lightest of pressures from a tiny area of skin. It was his thumb knuckle. It was touching the side of my breast, the lightest of contacts, the smallest area of skin.

But my mind became focused on it, that point of contact became my entire universe.

_WARNING : SLIPPERY WHEN WET._

His other hand came up and held my other arm.

_Please…_

_Push my arms behind me._

_Push them back._

_And hold them there, my wrists together._

_Grip them in one of yours._

_Pin them behind me._

_Hard._

_Make me helpless._

_Make me vulnerable._

_God, please…_

"Onegai… Asapin. Kiss me…"

I didn't know who was speaking, it certainly didn't sound like me. It sounded like someone gasping for breath, someone struggling to live, starved of oxygen.

Hoarse, rasping.

Desperate.

He came closer. His face bore no expression other than that awful gentle melancholy, as though he were doing something he didn't want to do, something against his better judgment.

Something pulling hard at him, painful, powerful, impossible to resist.

Yet wrong.

And yet at the same time his face was so tender.

So wonderfully, beautifully tender.

I felt his chest touch me. Touch mine.

Where my shape protruded he pressed against me.

Two parts of me burned and stung so hard I almost groaned just with the firm pressure against them.

I thought I would cut his skin, gouge into him, I felt so hard.

The illusion burned inside my head that I was so hard and he so soft and that I would slice into his lovely flesh.

And blood would flow.

Then his face was close…

Closer…

It tilted a little, his eyes closed.

Very close.

Then it happened.

It changed so fast, so completely I was taken totally by surprise.

This new feeling came over me, hard and fast and demanding.

Demanding that I respond to it.

Respond now.

_Now._

Absolutely now. _Move_!

_Get going!_

I broke away from him, turned and put a hand to my mouth. I had no time to even croak an apology, to explain anything. It was happening, right now, instantly it was happening. I got out of the library with its tatami mat floor which would have been the very worst place to do this, but I had no chance of reaching the toilet, or even the bathroom. Too far, way too far.

More than a dozen steps, it may as well have been on another planet.

It came over me that fast.

I doubled up in the hallway between kitchen and library, left hand reaching for the wall, for something to hold onto, some point of reference in this crazy burning awful place that had so quickly become my whole world. Then it happened, no time for anything. I exploded, vomit shooting up, past the hand clamped to my mouth and squirting out in a vile, disgusting fountain, over my hand, my arm, down my jaw and onto the wooden floor.

Helplessly, hopelessly I folded down onto my knees, put both hands on the floor and simply let it happen.

Impossible to fight isn't it?

When you throw up.

All you can think about is getting rid of it. It's awful, disgusting, foul, but once it starts to happen your mind is taken over and it knows the best thing for your metabolism, your body's system is to get the contents of your stomach out _now_, and remove the poison.

The stomach cramps wracked my whole frame.

I retched and retched and finally the heaving became dry.

I knelt, elbows bent, forearms pathetically on the floor in the puddle I'd made, not caring. I lay my head down, forehead touching the cool wood in wonderful gratitude that it was all over.

Oh, thank you!

Thank you!

Thank you for finishing!

Now I can get on with the rest of my life.

God only knows what I looked like from behind.

Knees apart, head down on the floor... what an opportunity for Asapin if only I hadn't been kneeling in a puddle of my own stomach fluid.

I suppose there is a funny side to it.

If you find it, let me know, hm?

I heard him behind me.

_Oh, no, go away!_

He knelt beside me, a hand pressed onto my shoulder.

"All done? Any more to come out?"

"Onegai, don't look at me. Go away..."

"Let's get you cleaned up."

"No, just leave me. Go."

"Don't be stupid. Up you get."

Suddenly I didn't weigh 90 pounds any more, I seemed to weigh about nine. He hauled me effortlessly up and guided me, dripping disgustingly, down the hallway to the bathroom. He even held a hand, bless him, palm upwards for me to drip into.

"You're touching me," I moaned.

"You can beg me to help you if you want, but I'm happy to make an exception just this once. I find vomit sex rather exciting actually…"

"You're sick."

"No, _you're_ sick. I'm perverted."

I turned to him. I tried to smile but it might have just looked like I was going to heave again because he drew back.

"And no, please don't ask me to kiss you now."

We reached the bathroom.

"Only one way to do this. Get in."

I climbed into the bath.

He washed his hands then turned the shower on me, adjusting it until it was refreshingly cool. He hosed my arms, my face and chin, my chest where everything had run down.

"Really you ought to take that off but I won't ask you to."

Well, here I was almost completely undressed and being showered by a lovely almost similarly undressed boy. What an opportunity. But to say that I was no longer in the mood would easily have gained me at least a silver medal in the Understatement Of The Year Olympics.

_**Oh, my Saka, Oh how I enjoyed that.**_

_**You didn't know that was coming did you?**_

_**But I knew. Oh yes, I knew it would be like this.**_

_Just piss off!_

_**Heh, heh, oh no, not yet. I'm going to enjoy this. You see now what a lovely gift I've left you? What a pretty time bomb is in your head?**_

_Fuck off out of my face!_

Shit. This was all I needed. I knelt down in the bath in shame, letting the water hose over me.

"Asapin, please, I'm alright now."

"No you're not."

_**Dead right, she's not. She's well and truly fucked up now, aren't you little sister?**_

"For God's sake, just leave me alone!"

For his answer he turned off the water, hung up the shower handle and climbed into the bath with me. He knelt and hauled me against him.

_Oh, no don't. Not now, not like this._

"Onegai…dame…"(1)

And because I was in such a shitty mood, realizing now what a wonderful legacy my brother had left me, knowing that every time a boy came close to me I'd react this way due to my fucked up head, I felt in no mood at all for him to be close now.

_Just go! Go! Leave me alone in my misery!_

Which is why, demanding that he leave me, knowing nothing good could come from him being with me tonight or tomorrow or any other day, knowing I never wanted him to get close to me again. That's why, when I turned to him, my arms went round him and my face pressed hard into him, and clinging and grateful and pathetic and needing to want him close, I burst into tears again.

_Well done Sakana. Second time today. Impressive._

- - - oOo - - -

"Gomen."

"It's okay. It's nothing."

"Gomen… gomen…"

"Shush, now."

"Gom…"

"That's enough. Stop apologizing. You don't have to."

"Asapin, I just can't tell you. Please don't ask."

"Alright, I won't. Forget it. Tell me some other time, hm?"

"I will, but you need to know it wasn't your fault. Nothing you did. You were lovely… I so wanted to… be close to you. It's something wrong with me."

"Shush, don't worry, another time, hm?"

"Hm."

We were in the kitchen. I had showered, dried and put a robe on. While I was sorting myself out in shower and then bedroom, he'd wiped up the mess in the hallway and put down disinfectant then taken a quick shower and changed into clean tee shirt and shorts.

We sat on the barstools. And as it happens, as it always just seems to, I was in his arms. Weepy and fed up and pissed off with the world and my lot in it.

I'd started to try and explain what had happened but hadn't got further than some nonsense mumbling about it being a problem I had which I'd not been aware of because no boy had got that close before.

He'd just assumed it was some kind of panic attack.

I'd denied that but didn't want to get into long deep explanations right now.

If ever, in fact.

So I had descended into stupid gratuitous self pity as usual and he had descended into wonderful helpful redemption and put out his arms and drawn me against him and made it begin to seem like it might not be all that bad after all.

Except I knew it was all that bad.

It was worse.

If my head had become damaged and each time a boy got close this was the result, then, well, I was in for a pretty crap time of things.

And if it happened when a girl got close…

That bleak thought was almost enough to tilt me over the edge into the weepy lake again, but I resisted. Two lots of crying was more than enough for one day.

I'd drive him away at this rate.

"Gomen, but I think you'd better go."

"Sure. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

I nodded, red-eyed.

"Look, I still don't know what the problem is, but if anything happens, anything at all. If you feel sick, or unhappy, or you want to talk about anything. Or even if you just want a hug. Anything at all, call me. Yes? Make sure you call me."

"You're so kind to me. I don't deserve you."

He leaned over me and kissed my hair.

"You're right. You deserve someone much better."

"Good night. It was a fantastic day. Thank you for taking me out."

"I'll call you again soon."

"Please do."

I stood in the open doorway and watched him go, watched him for five minutes as his figure dwindled down the road, until I could only see him as he passed under the pool of light from each streetlamp and in the dark intervals where he was hidden I only _knew_ he was there. He turned the corner and was gone.

_If I don't love you Asapin, I don't know what the hell this feeling is. I've never not-loved anyone this much before._

- - - oOo - - -

Something else was bothering me too.

That hot roaring _wanting_ I'd had when he'd held my wrist, my arms.

That need to be...

Made use of.

That was the phrase I kept coming back to time after time.

_Make use of me._

_Use me…_

I just kept thinking of being restrained.

Held down, squirming by his strong wrists while he…

Did things.

Had these desires been born out of The Incident too?

That frightened me, because the pleasure I got from just thinking about it was strong enough. I couldn't begin to imagine how wonderful it would be if it actually happened.

- - - oOo - - -

_7 – 11 June 2007 _

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum. _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Seven, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	38. Of Drama Clubs And Helpless Women

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Eight – Of Drama Clubs And Helpless Women**

_Akagi: "Homeostasis and transistasis."  
Katsuragi: "What are those?"  
Akagi: "One is a force for the status quo. The other is a force for change. A living thing is something that has both of these conflicting qualities."  
Ryoji: "Like men and women."_

- Conversation in a bar, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Ep.15

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Next day I couldn't bear to spend time alone. I didn't really want to see Asaba again

_yes I did_

in case the same problems came up again. Enough of going pink whenever he came within ten yards and vomiting when he came within one and bawling my eyes out whenever he touched me. Enough of that. Blushing, puking and weeping is no basis on which to build a balanced relationship.

So I sat there in front of the mindlessly droning TV, my brain mindlessly droning in sympathy and my homework open but untouched, forgotten on the table.

Maho.

Untouched as well, sadly, or pretty much so.

But not forgotten. Very much not forgotten.

The name and the thought and the image of her face and the memory of her scent had been in my head all morning.

I hadn't seen her for days. Not since that morning I'd left Yukino's house with Shibahime almost a week ago.

She'd had that odd look on her face, something involving annoyance at Shibahime that she had gone home

(and taken me with her? Was that what that mildly irritated look had been?)

and something else. Something I just couldn't put my finger on. Something bordering on _caring_. Or _concern_. Or _helplessness_.

And it was those emotions that had made me begin thinking about her this morning. They were just not 'Maho emotions' as far as I was concerned, she didn't have them in her index card catalogue of Faces to Wear.

Maho's emotional card index was a small one, very limited. Bored; Coasting In Neutral; Mildly Annoyed; Mildly Interested; Infuriated; Angry; Very Angry; Seriously Deeply Pissed and finally More Angry That You Want To Experience Right Now Unless You Wish To Horribly And Agonizingly Die.

And really that was about it.

So deeply puzzled and even more deeply interested in finding out what Caring and Concerned and most of all _Helpless_ were doing in there, I found myself with my mobile in my hand and her number's memory button under my thumb and her telephone buzzing distantly in my ear before I'd even thought of why I was calling or what I was going to say.

"Hm, Izawa."

"Hello, it's Sakana."

"Oh, hi," Coasting In Neutral answered me.

"What are you up to?"

"Just about to go out," Mildly Annoyed had taken over the phone now.

"Oh. Anywhere interesting?"

"Not really. Just meeting someone."

_Who? Who? A boy? Who is it? TELL ME!_

"Oh, right. I was just calling to see if you wanted to meet up."

"Uh, gomen."

"Oh, well. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I'm busy tomorrow too."

_Who with? Who?_

"Ah. Right. Gomen."

"Look, I'm meeting Miyazawa and that gang of misfits again on Wednesday. Want to come along?" Mildly Interested offered.

"Oh. Yes please. Where are you meeting?"

"Kawasaki. At the station. At eleven."

"Not going bowling are you?"

"Bowling?"

"Gomen. Never mind."

"We're just meeting up for tea and cake I think. Just chilling. If that's possible with that bunch of looneys."

"Oh, sure. Arigato."

"Why did you say bowling?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter."

"Well, bye."

"Hm, good-bye Maho."

- - - oOo - - -

I sat there, head in hands, cross with the mindless crap on the TV, cross with my inability to do my homework, cross that Maho dared to even have a life that didn't involve me and cross that I couldn't face a reality that involved vomiting whenever a boy who I really, really, _really_ wanted to kiss me, tried to kiss me.

Those last two jostled for pole position in my emotional gymnastics for thirty minutes before I gave up and seething with unusually vehement self-pity, packed my swimming bag and stormed out of the house.

I spent all afternoon at the school pool swimming.

In self-pity.

And trying to forget stuff.

And given that Asaba hadn't phoned and left a message when I got home and given also that I'd be damned if I was going to mope about all day Sunday as well waiting for him to call, I went back to the school the next day.

And tried again to forget stuff.

And failed.

_Maho. Maho. Beautiful Maho._

_Who are you seeing? Who are you meeting? Whose gaze is drifting through your rainbow hair?_

_Who is delighting in seeing Care, Concern and especially Helplessness in your dark compelling eyes? _

_Who?_

_And, oh (this hurt so) what are you doing with them?_

_And why isn't it me?_

- - - oOo - - -

On the Sunday evening on the way home from school, Asaba phoned.

Barely able to decide which was driving me more crazy; the thought of seeing him again or the thought of not being able to face the inability to kiss him (should he be so bold as to offer more kisses), I answered the call.

We talked for a good while, of this and that, of things not really worth telling. But he was able, as I knew he would be, as he always, always is, to convince me that a friendship made up on the one side of an idiotic, all singing, all dancing, all teasing Casanova and on the other side of a blushing, puking, sobbing loser wasn't all bad, and that he really rather liked it.

"Especially if _you_ do it, Kanahrin," he teased me beautifully, "The crying brings out the protective man in me, the blushing is lovely and the vomiting, well, I think we can find a work around for that somehow. Also," he added, rather mysteriously, "if kissing your mouth generates such an adverse reaction… well, I'm sure I can find some other places to kiss."

We met on the Monday and on the Tuesday. He asked me round his house first of all but I declined. I was still nervous about going to his home territory, particularly as there wouldn't be any parents there to help, to haul him off me should he get carried away, so he came to me and we had another amazing, hot, sweaty, exhausting day of dance practice.

And I want to tell you that nothing happened. Nothing rude or romantic at all. Not a thing. I was a little puzzled but he said he thought if there was a problem with my panic attacks that it might be best if he just was "around me a bit" so I could relax more.

So we sunbathed a little (yes, he kept his clothes on) then when it was too hot in the middle of the day to be outside we danced and at the end of the day he once again amazed me by taking over my kitchen and cooking a great prawn curry.

And on the next day we went to the beach again and after an hour I decisively demonstrated who was the better body boarder. He accepted his humiliating defeat with good grace. Although he did reiterate a long whiney list of things he could do better. And to give an idea how desperate he was, weeing higher up a wall was one of his claimed (though not proven) achievements.

I was finding out more interesting things about Asapin all the time.

That Tuesday evening we stayed in Kamakura and he treated me to a Thai meal. Really, it was becoming more and more embarrassing. He had a limitless wallet and I couldn't help but squirm at feeling that I was becoming so much in his debt, not just financially but in the waves of kindness and consideration he heaped on me.

Maybe that was his plan. So I would be so guilty I'd let him get closer by sheer indebtedness.

All I did though was feel acutely unequal to him.

He was too good, too nice, too much the perfect considerate boy.

This couldn't go on. Either he'd have to stop being so damned nice or I'd just have to start being damned nice back.

Maybe _that_ was his plan instead.

Romance by guilt trip.

Those two days, before the Aching Blackness, were among the nicest, the most carefree in my life.

They stood out, like a warm shining brief summer in contrast to the black winter that followed.

So let me tell you.

A string of days that unfolded with a horrible inevitable sensation as though someone determined to ruin my life had planned them that way.

- - - oOo - - -

The second of August.

Us seven girls were once again at a coffee bar. We sat drinking and chatting, as before. Shibahime was this time actually sat on Yukino's lap, like a daughter. Or maybe a pet. A pet what I'm not sure but, given the way she attacked everything on the table that wasn't made of china, glass or metal, a pet Godzilla possibly. In front of her a plate of cakes was being systematically orally traumatised. Uh-huh, as usual Shibahime was sat there, blissfully ignorant of the world around her, munching her way though a pile of sugars and calories so fast it made me cross. Cross that she wasn't the shape of a barrel, the size of a dinosaur and with the complexion of a pizza.

Some people burn calories.

(Shibahime burns them like a nuclear power plant burns plutonium).

Some of us (oh, thank you so much God) such as me, wear them.

There's no justice in the world.

I did notice that Yukino seemed rather quieter today, rather down. She wasn't talking so much.

I looked at Maho but she was as impenetrable as ever. A gorgeous silent wall. No Care, Concern or Helplessness today. Her emotional card index had been flipped firmly around to Coasting in Neutral.

_Who have you been seeing?_

I wondered.

_Please… not knowing is killing me…_

…_can't you see that?_

Tsubaki spoke:

"I've seen Arima. When I went to school for volleyball practice. We bumped into the kendo club that'd just come back from their training camp. I was so surprised! Arima's grown taller and he's kinda different now. Anyway, he looked real cool, with those looks and now his height he's practically a model."

"Huh…" Maho mused quietly, "In the end you just like anyone good looking."

I think Maho just likes pigeon holing people. I think it's the fighter in her. She's always on reconnaissance like a special forces patrol, gathering data on her potential opponents. It's why she's so often quiet and looks bored. She's hard at work inside storing information away for future use.

A big sigh came from Shibahime's cushion.

"What's wrong Yukinon?" Tsubaki asked.

"Hm, maybe I'll join a club, too," she replied, not sounding like she cared even remotely about joining a club.

"Eh? What's this all of a sudden? But the volleyball club would love to have you, though."

"Because I haven't done anything this summer. Arima's got club, there's the nationals coming up, he's grown taller and all sorts of things, but the way I am right now I haven't changed at all. It's no good. I know I'm only going to be apart from him for three weeks, but why do I suddenly become useless when he's not around? I just feel… helpless."

Tsubaki got out of her seat, and leaned aggressively on the table.

"Oh, what? So this is all about your _love life_? Hey, I ain't hangin' around if I ain't getting paid," and she made as if to go, all affronted and proud and fed up with girls who had no life except what was dictated to them by their boyfriends.

I had to laugh, she really was a funny girl. All her physical sporty posturing and showing off, her loudness and in your face bravado. The feminine independence. I wondered what she was hiding. I tried to imagine her at a smart restaurant at a candlelit table for two and simply couldn't. That hole was round and Tsubaki's square peg wouldn't go in.

"Ooh, you're your own woman, alright, a woman with guts," I teased her.

"Well I ain't hangin' around. I'm goin' home already. I don't have a boyfriend so I don't understand that sort of stuff."

She got up from the table and made an exaggerated display of stomping out of the café.

"All right! Gomen! I won't talk about it anymore!" Yukino tried to entice her back.

"Besides," the small, pretty and beautifully shaped Rika chirped up, "its not like you haven't been doing anything. You've been studying so much."

"Well, but its kind of a given that I do that. Besides, I've finished all the homework already so I have quite a bit of free time. Now that I don't spend time training to keep up my image, I have lots of free time."

Suddenly, across the table, Aya and Tsubaki became animated and attentive. They leaned together, hands clenched under their chins and fluttered their eyelids at Yukino.

"Yu-ki-non…" they sang in a stupid wobbly way, "Let us copy your homework."

Yukino took a sip of her tea and put her cup carefully down.

"One thousand Yen per subject," she answered coldly.

"That's so dirty! Terrible! You're going to mix money and friendship?" spat Tsubaki.

Aya made a gesture of dislike. She put her forefingers and thumbs together into circles and crossed her arms in front of her to indicate a money-grabber.

"Being charitable makes you a better person," she intoned, "Capitalism doesn't necessarily rule the world."

Yukino wasn't moved.

"Money is the key that opens all doors. I've become honest with myself concerning that issue. My brain can make money you know. At this rate I can become a doctor or a lawyer or anything I want. This brain is eventually gonna earn a couple hundred thousand a year, so I'm not about to start selling myself cheap now."

"Damn," Tsubaki cursed, "smart people are just so…" and she growled in mock hate and disgust.

"You've sure got rid of your mask," Maho observed, "Before you'd lend out your notes to everyone and you had everyone completely fooled."

Tsubaki turned to me.

"So, Sakana, how about you? Still swimming?"

"I've not been to club events at all. Yeah, I'm swimming but just for fun, just to relax. I didn't bother with the swim tournament."

"Why not?" Maho asked, "That must have shocked the coach didn't it?"

"Hm, a lot. But I'm thinking hard about what I'm doing with myself at the moment. Things are going on that are just confusing me and mixing me up."

"Oh?"

I looked at Maho. She was doing it again. That expression that had a little care and concern in it. Oh, thank you Maho, so you do care after all whether I exist or not.

My stomach did a little flip.

"Yeah," Tsubaki probed, "don't leave it like that, you gotta tell us now."

"Have you got a boyfriend or something?" Maho asked.

_What's with you? You know how I feel!_

"No way! It's not like that!"

"What is it like then?" Tsubaki smiled at me in a nasty, predatory way I wasn't sure I liked, "A girlfriend?"

I folded my arms.

"You guys can be really annoying you know?"

Tsubaki leaned forward on her elbows and grinned horribly.

"Right, so it _is_ a girlfriend then. Ooh, I say, how juicy. Don't worry, your secret is safe with us. You'll have at least until the weekend before the national papers carry the story."

"Leave her alone guys," Yukino cut in "you don't want her to start crying again do you?"

"Yech, all that weepy stuff is for girls," Tsubaki teased.

"Come on, can't you see you're upsetting her?" Rika said.

I sat there, annoyed at being teased. My face was going red. Shit. Shit, shit, _shit_. How to give every damn thing away without saying a word.

I looked over at Maho again. She was sat as she usually does, elbows on the table, teacup held in both hands and raised to her lips. Over the rim of the cup her eyes watched me.

I looked away, going even pinker.

"You're good to have around, Sakana," Tsubaki pressed on, "You're nearly as much fun to tease as Tsubasa."

At that very moment the cute but empty-headed girl burped and reached for another cake.

Everyone laughed.

"Ah, well then," Tsubaki relented, bored with taking advantage of me, "how about the drama club?"

Yukino, Maho and I all chorused.

"Drama club?"

"Yeah, it'd be perfect!" Tsubaki said, "We've got one here who can write stories, right?" she looked at Aya, "And we've got one who can make costumes, right?" she indicated Rika, "The pretty ones…"

"Me?" said Maho, "pretty?"

_Of course, baka. Of course you're pretty. You have a mirror at home haven't you?_

Shibahime merely grunted and pushed a piece of rogue icing into her mouth.

"The mixed up one who's an emotional wreck," Tsubaki mocked me, "that's a sign of a good actress, and finally the master of acting."

"Mixed up?" I asked, "oh, right, I love you too."

"That doesn't make me happy," Yukino said.

"See!" Tsubaki trilled loudly, smiling with glee, "You can all join the drama club!"

"What's so funny?" Yukino asked her, "And what're _you_ going to do?"

"Oh, I'm on the volleyball team, so it's got nothing to do with me," and she struck a mocking, _do I look like I give a shit_, pose.

Yukino stood up.

"Oh, dirty! Nope! No way! It's not gonna happen!"

"Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyaaaah! I can't hear you!" Tsubaki sang, fingers in her ears.

"Kids. You're kids. I've seen grade schoolers behave better!" I said.

"And anyway," Yukino pointed out, "the school doesn't have a drama club to begin with!"

"Oh…"

"Think of something?"

Rika was looking at Aya. The pale skinned girl held a finger to her chin and had a funny look in her eyes.

"Hey," Yukino rounded on her defensively, "don't go getting any ideas, all right? Tsubaki's only teasing after all."

- - - oOo - - -

"See you all later."

"Sayonara! Bye now!" Aya and Rika called.

We were saying our goodbyes outside.

Tsubaki and Tsubasa waved.

"Ciao. Bye-bye."

"Hey," I called, a hot impulse suddenly filling me, "Maho, are you busy now?"

"Yeah, I gotta go meet someone."

"Oh. Okay. Bye then."

Oh.

Crushed.

"See you."

_Who? Who are you meeting? _

- - - oOo - - -

I wandered alone around the shops, not really interested in anything.

_Baka!_

_This is crazy. Maho is allowed to have other friends. It's not against the law!_

_Well, it damn well ought to be._

_But if it's a boy…_

I pushed that thought aside.

Or tried to.

I went in a music store, bought a couple of CDs that I knew Asapin had in his dance collection and made my way home.

I put the music on and danced for a while, but my heart wasn't really in it.

I got changed into a bikini, took a towel, went out in the garden and lay in the sun.

And I lay there and had naughty thoughts.

_Maho…_

I imagined her in a nightclub, dancing with me. Her face serious and concentrating while she flowed, while she moved. The spotlights sending bright rainbows through her hair. And me. Watching her. It was hot, she took off her clothes. I was with her, dancing close…

"Sakana… rub oil on me…"

_Damn…_

- - - oOo - - -

_11 - 12 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Eight, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	39. The Truth About Maho

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Thirty Nine – The Truth About Maho**

_I had a taste of bitter life  
At sweet sixteen,  
I was growing up too fast  
If you know what I mean.  
Met an older man  
Who taught me his own way to live,  
And all I had to do to keep him  
Was to give and give._

- Cher, Carousel Man  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The third of August. A Thursday. I'll always remember it.

If nothing else, that beautiful bougainvillea will always remind me.

Growing on the side of the house that's part way down a street near me.

And in her garden also.

Ah… her garden…

I phoned her again.

"Hi."

"Moshimoshi."

"Hey, I wanted to ask, have you done the math homework?"

"Some. I'm a bit stuck though. The last set of problems are a real killer."

"Hm, I found that. I've hit a brick wall there too. Do you want to join forces and look at them together? Two heads might be better than one."

_Fingers crossed, fingers crossed, don't be going out, don't be meeting your mystery friend, fingers crossed…_

"Sure. I've got nothing on today. Do you want to come round now? You can stay for lunch."

"Hm, yeah. Arigato. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Right. And the English story writing has got me stumped as well."

"Okay, I'll bring that too, yeah?"

She gave me the address.

_Yes, oh yes, OH YES! Uh-huh!_

_Result!_

I skipped up and down my hallway, punching the air.

Alone with Maho!

_Mmmm…_

_Oh, yeah!_

Now, I only needed the strength and the right opportunity to talk to her.

- - - oOo - - -

"Hey."

"Ohayo."

"Come in."

I went in, kicked off my shoes. Put on the slippers she offered.

It was a big house. Quite old, wooden, one storey and in traditional style. Very fancy. A smart neighbourhood. I liked it at once, bigger but it reminded me a little of mine.

I said hello to her mother, a tiny woman, very tidy and neatly dressed. Older than I expected. She wore traditional kimono, most unusual.

Her mother fussed about making us tea while we chatted.

"I was thinking. The Isawaya sweet shops. They're not anything to do with you are they?"

"Yes, didn't you know? My family owns the business."

"Really? I never knew. That must be every child's dream, growing up in a family that makes sweets."

"Well, not mine. I don't like sweet things. Cinnamon rolls maybe. I could live on them. But cakes and candies, no thanks."

_Cinnamon rolls eh? Makes mental note._

"My older brother plans to run the business when dad retires. And my sister is already an accountant. She'll set up her own business I expect but help out the family company too."

"Will you be involved in all that?"

"No."

We went to Maho's room.

I had no idea what to expect. But it was nice. I loved it at once. It was a large room, bright and sunny with shouji that opened to the garden. Maho had a large collection of books and many of them were on medicine. There were a couple of anatomical posters on the wall. Unlike Yukino and I, she had a European style bed. Wooden with crisp white sheets.

I stared at it.

She slept in it.

Maho slept in it.

Random thoughts about what she wore to bed fluttered through my imagination.

_An old shirt? Shorts and a tee shirt? A pretty filmy nightdress?_

_Nothing?_

"You okay?"

"Hm, yes, fine."

"I thought you were spacing out a little there."

We knelt on cushions at a table.

The books came out.

_Are you into shoujo-ai then?_

"Are you into biology then?" I asked, looking at the posters.

_Fretting, sweating, worrying about how to move the subject along…_

"Yes. I'm going to be a doctor."

_You sound so beautiful._

"You sound so sure."

"I am. Absolutely sure. A neurosurgeon."

"Ah, that's to do with the brain isn't it?"

_Not the heart then. Healing broken hearts is what you'd be good at._

"Yes, its one of the most advanced and technically challenging fields of medicine and surgery there is."

"The pay must be good."

"Yes, but that's not why I'm doing it. The whole thing with diseases of the brain fascinates me. Tumours, migraines, mental illnesses, things like schizophrenia, hallucinatory problems, it's a really deep field and touches on other fields too such as cancers, the circulatory systems, bloodstream, and some really odd stuff like how the mind works, dreams, things like that."

I'd not often heard her string so many words together in one go before.

But she could sit and talk about bus timetables for all I cared. Just hearing her speak made my heart beat faster.

I was alone with Maho. For the first time in a really private place.

Schizophrenia. That was like having another person in your head wasn't it?

_**Something like that, yes, Saka.**_

I sat there, refusing to be drawn into a conversation with my brother just now, and delighted in watching her obvious fascination with the subject.

"It must feel good to know for sure what it is you want to do with your life."

_Like be with you, hold you for ever, until the world ends._

"Hm. I know someone who suffers really bad migraine headaches. Being around them got me interested in the subject a year or so back."

"Right."

"But you're into swimming, isn't that going to be your career?"

"You know," I sipped my drink and took a bite of cake, "I really haven't given it that much thought. Sure I enjoy it and everyone tells me I'm good at it but, well, I just haven't thought about it all that much."

"You should. I think you need something to focus on."

_Yes. You._

"I do?"

"Hm. You seem a little bit adrift these days."

"Ah…"

I wanted to ask her about that. I wanted to find out what she saw in me that made me seem adrift. I wanted to ask her about love. Had she ever been in love? Had she had a boyfriend? Had she… did she… was she… would she…

_How did I bring the subject round to girls?_

It's impossible.

So I tried, I started…

But something else came blurting out.

Something useless and banal.

"Do you want to begin with the math or the English?"

Failure.

Annoyed with myself.

_Water once spilled will not return to the bowl._

In that room.

Two girls.

One of them focused, quiet, her sharp mind attending to school work. From time to time she'd pick up her cup and sip her drink and look at her friend, her mind at ease.

One of them unfocused, raging inside, her ravaged mind a sea of confusion and need. Most of the time not thinking of school work but of the person kneeling opposite, looking at her, how she moves, the curve of her jaw, her lips as they touch her cup. Her mind unravelling.

"We're gonna have to admit defeat. I'm stumped on this one."

Miserable with myself I had to agree.

"I could phone Yukino," she looked at me, the bright idea lighting her face, "She'll know the answers."

"Do you have a thousand Yen?"

"Oh, she won't mind just helping out, giving us some tips. It's not like I'm knocking on her door to borrow her whole file. And with Arima away at his kendo tournament she'll want to come over for a chat."

"Okay then."

Half of me wanted Yukino to come round, because I saw her as a sort of ally. She knew how I felt, maybe she could turn the conversation in a direction that would give me an opening.

The other half, my irrational jealous grasping half, wanted to keep Maho to myself, even though I might get nowhere with my plans to confess, I would still have her alone.

A faint conversation in the adjoining room:

"Yesterday you said you had all your homework done, right? I was hoping you could show us the parts we're stuck on. Math and English. Oh, yes, Sakana's here too. Hm, yes... Right... Arigato... Okay, see you."

Maho came back in.

"She'll be round in a while."

She put some music on. I didn't recognize it, it was an English rock group. It was harmless enough but I wasn't paying much attention.

I was adrift, hopelessly awash with an aimless burning need the key to which I couldn't hold, couldn't slot in the lock and turn. It wouldn't let my fingers grasp it. The thing I needed to get a hold on I just could not grip.

I was afraid.

In case she laughed.

If she laughed at me, laughed at the ridiculous suggestion that I loved her.

Because it was ridiculous wasn't it? Quite unbelievably stupid that I, a shy gawkish slow-coach could be of the slightest interest to her, slender, steely eyed, reserved, clever and quite heartbreakingly beautiful.

She slid one of the shouji panels aside and sunlight and warm breeze and insect song flowed in. The relentless symphony of cicadas rustled like a thousand miniature seamstresses all busily chattering their needles, clicking, clicking.

She stood with her back to me looking at the garden. She was wearing just jeans and a brown vest top, nothing romantic, nothing special but kneeling on her floor behind her, unseen, I sat and watched, invisibly and completely her prisoner. Held down and against her by my unending need, my unending painful hope.

She didn't even know it, but she was life and death to me. In her ignorance my life could flower into total wondrous fulfilment or simply die.

Turn to me, look at me, come to me, invite me up and take me by the hand.

Walk me to the screen and show me your garden. Point out to me your sunflowers, your fragrant azaleas the colour of a virgin's blush, your gardenia, your climbing dazzling bougainvillea. Even just your lawn would be enough. Show me your lawn, let me run my fingers through it. We would stand there, side by side your hand on my shoulder, fingers lightly touching like the gentle flames that lick at paper and turn it to ash, touching it, caressing they destroy it.

Touch me.

Destroy me.

I would gladly become ash, become nothing if you would just touch…

I looked down at my hands balled tightly between my knees.

And slowly and silently died.

Something came to me as I knelt there, alone. Silent. Screaming.

I'm not a spiritual person, religion doesn't interest me and I've never become a fan of the supernatural, ghosts, UFOs, mind reading, spoon bending. It's all rubbish to me.

But sat there those last five or ten minutes of my coherent life some sensation came to me.

Thinking back now I still can't decide what it was.

It felt like a pressure on me, a change in something coming. I can only liken it to the carbonated water in a bottle, as the cap is first turned there is that slight change in pressure, you know? Just the very first hint of the gas escaping but before the cap comes off and the pressure is released. In those few short seconds the gas in the bottle seems to gather itself ready, to know that change is coming, something that once it begins can't be stopped or turned aside.

I knelt and felt such a thing.

My mind told me that when Yukino arrived things would change, things would happen and if I was going to confess anything it had to be now, before the other girl brought her new mind into the room and unbalanced the interaction between the two of us. Maybe because I was the quietest, I knew I'd sit there, dumb and glum while Yukino and Maho used words and the conversation went in directions I was too slow to follow.

I needed to say something now, before she arrived.

I knew I had to, something invisible was telling me to.

I got up, it seemed to take an enormous effort.

I stepped towards the screens, she had one arm raised, the slim white fingers rested on the wooden frame of the panel. I could see skin, soft and white, the underside of her arm and part of the achingly mysterious and pure side of her inside the wide arm hole of her vest top. The very top of the side of her breast.

I froze and looked at it.

Sensing me behind her, she turned.

Lowered her arm.

That vision of white skin vanished.

Someone spoke, no idea who it was. It didn't seem to be me.

"Maho, I've been thinking…"

The doorbell rang.

"That'll be Yukino."

Maho moved past me, so close I felt the air stir against me, pushed aside by the passing of her warm body. A hint of her pressed against me. I closed my eyes and breathed in. Breathed her in.

_No, don't go. I have to tell you…_

_Before Yukino arrives._

_Tell you…_

_I love you…_

She went out.

I stood there.

Feeling suddenly awful, useless, as though a last opportunity had irrevocably passed and a page had turned.

I stood, that feeling of awful foreboding wouldn't leave me.

- - - oOo - - -

A muffled conversation in the hallway:

"Thanks for coming over to my place. Ew, what's with your face?"

"Is something strange?"

"Er, you're exuding a weird aura. I guess even a person like you with the spiritual strength of steel gets lonely when Arima's not around."

They came in.

"Hi Yukino."

"Chiwas!" she gave a cute wave, full of life and sunshine.

We sat around the table and worked.

For a while only studying.

For a while, inside me, only jumbled thoughts.

But Yukino wasn't herself. She was worse than she'd been at the coffee bar yesterday. She seemed distracted, a little dopey. She sighed a lot.

She stopped working and sat, a pen in her mouth, wiggling it between her teeth as she likes to do.

Another sigh. She began to mumble, almost to herself.

"It was like this during the sports fest too. When Arima goes away I suddenly become no good. I guess a part of me always knew without my fake image, or my pride, I'm pretty timid. Oh, I hate myself! Arima's off doing his own things and I'm getting all depressed and can't do anything. I hate it!"

She ended up fists on the table, almost shouting.

"Don't throw a fit in my home," Maho barked at her, "And what's wrong with that? Men prefer women like that, you know?"

_They do? News to me._

"Yeah, but his tastes are a little weird," Yukino continued, "There's Asapin and there's Tsubasa. And there's me. I don't really know but I think Arima wouldn't like passive girls of that sort."

"I don't really see anything wrong with it."

Maho sat back on her heels, hands in her lap, she gave Yukino a sort of kind school teacher look as though she had experience of these things. She carried on.

"You lose your emotional balance, so it's 'falling in love', right? It isn't the real thing if you can act cool and get by on your own, because that means your own feelings are more important to you than his. You've met a person who could make you lose your emotional balance. That's why they say he's 'stolen your heart'."

I sat there. Maho had just described the last three months of my life.

_How does she know this?_

_Has she loved before?_

_When? Who?_

"You're so mature," Yukino gushed at her, eyes wide in revelation, "You're the first person ever that I've wanted to call my older sister! Dear sister!"

"If you're going to tease me, I'll stop talking."

"Oh, just kidding, just kidding," she grinned at her in a kittenish kawaii begging sort of way, "So you're in love right now, right?"

_What?_

Here it came, the seconds ticking away…

"Are you going out with him?"

A quite ordinary day in a quite ordinary house, just three friends doing some home study.

But I died that day.

"Yeah," Maho responded quietly.

I looked at her. I hadn't heard right had I?

"I can't imagine what kind of person you'd fall for. What's he like?" Yukino asked her.

_A girl maybe? Me maybe?_

"He's 28 years old. A dentist."

"Wow!"

"He's a complete adult, so I'm no match for him. He's mature. He's kind and strong. I love him, but I also admire him. I want to become someone he respects."

I sat still, kneeling, my glass in my hand frozen in mid journey between table and mouth.

My heart ceased beating, it locked up. Blood no longer flowed, my lungs ceased to fill with air. The fluid drained out of my face. I felt it going. Down, down.

The only part of me that still lived was my mind.

Which went into immediate meltdown.

_28 years old. Complete adult. Mature. Kind and strong. Love him. Admire him._

_How can this be?_

_How can it?_

_What about me?_

_Maho, what about me?_

_Don't you even see me?_

_Don't you even feel me?_

_Don't you even like me?_

_Don't you love me?_

_Don't you even care that I exist?_

There comes a gap here, this is the God honest truth. I have a complete blank of about fifteen minutes.

The next thing my broken heart and shut-down mind allows me to remember is running up a street near home. I was only a few minutes from home and I remember the street well because there is a house half way along that has the most stunning pink-red bougainvillea growing up one side, as beautiful as the one that grows in Maho's garden.

And now I've seen Maho's this one reminds me of it.

Of her house.

Of her.

Of her words.

Of that day.

The day I died.

I didn't have my bag and books with me, I didn't have my handbag. I was barefoot.

I honestly remember nothing but I must have run out of her house leaving everything behind, the house slippers must have come off as I ran.

I reached home. I have no idea how because I could hardly see a thing. It seemed to be raining heavily, the heaviest storm I've ever experienced.

No bag, no key.

I stood there, stupidly staring at the locked house.

I went around the side to the garden patio and reached up into one of the hanging baskets for the spare garden door key.

I let myself in.

Ran to my room.

Hauled a futon out of its cupboard and hurled it, moaning to the floor.

And fell on it.

And then, only then did the tears really begin. And the sobbing. And after that, I'd really rather not tell you anything.

Gomen.

Forgive me.

It hurts too much.

- - - oOo - - -

The phone was ringing.

I came out of a dull broken sleep and heard it.

I ignored it.

Don't know what the time was but it was still sunny.

After it stopped I got up, disconnected it, threw off my crumpled clothes and fell back on the futon, curling up into the smallest ball I could make out of my bitter, aching, hurting body.

- - - oOo - - -

I woke.

It was early evening.

Without looking at clocks or watches I knew it was.

The day just had that feel to it.

Warmth dissipating, the sun setting, heat baking off pavements, dying.

The clouds wearing the reflected light of the low sun.

My throat hurt.

I got up, splashed water on my face and neck and wrists.

My feet were filthy and the soles covered in cuts.

I washed them and applied antiseptic ointment and plasters. One of my toenails was badly broken.

I hurt but that hardly mattered.

I stood and looked in the bathroom mirror.

How can I describe to you my thoughts that evening? My feelings?

All those days and weeks and months I had lived in hope that she would notice me. I think that is what hurt the most. The discovery, the understanding that all that time, when I had so stupidly been so enraptured with her yet done nothing. All those chances I had cast away, through stupid shyness, hesitation, fear. I could have, should have confessed to her the day I first saw her. Or the next, or the next.

But I didn't.

I let it drag on and on and on.

Living in a fantasy world in which she loved me back I let it slide day upon day upon day.

A hundred chances thrown away.

And it was perhaps during that time she met this man, and fell in love.

That is why I felt so angry that evening.

Angry with myself.

Lost chances.

I hung my head and wept.

There was something I could do, some step I could take to drag myself out of this pit.

Still naked I padded down the hall to the phone.

I picked it up.

The line was dead.

Cursing my own stupidity I reached for the line connection and plugged it in.

I dialled the number.

The phone at the other end was picked up.

Thank God.

"Hello?"

"You know you said to me, the other day, that if anything happens. You know, anything. Anything at all? If I felt ill again or unhappy or that I needed to talk to you… or even if I just wanted a hug. You know you said I should call you?"

"I remember."

"Well. I'm calling you."

"Which is it? What do you need?"

"All of them."

A pause.

"Where are you?"

"At home."

"Come here. Come to me."

"Can I come now?"

"Of course, here's the address…"

I reached for the pen that lives on the phone cradle and wrote the address on my hand.

"Would you… would you come to me?"

"No."

The answer was decisive.

"If you're not happy, the best thing is to get out of your world. Out of your house. Away from familiar things. So it's best you come to me."

"Alright. I should be there in three quarters of an hour."

I wiped my face, ran my fingers through my hair to try and make it behave, threw on - I can't remember what I threw on - some clean clothes, the first things I found, and taking the garden door key with me I went out, disconnecting the phone. I didn't want to come back tonight and have to think about listening to any phone messages.

I didn't want the world to talk to me.

The address I'd been given was four stops west up the Nambu Line and was easy to find. Left out of the station, first right and up the hill for five minutes.

It was a simple, small, modern house. Not an affluent family home.

I remembered he'd said his dad had been transferred with his work, so maybe this had been a temporary home. It certainly didn't feel like a family home.

Robotically I went up the steps, rang the bell.

And cursed the world for even continuing to exist.

- - - oOo - - -

The door opened.

He stood there.

Apart from _her_, I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful sight in the whole world.

It took only three steps.

Three paces for me to go in, give up all pretence that this day wasn't really the worst I had ever known and collapse against him. His arms came around me, mine went around him and the heart rending sobs started all over again.

I didn't love him.

I kept telling myself I didn't.

For days I had been doing that.

But what is love exactly?

I'm not sure I can say.

Not now, not after that day.

If it's a certain quickening of the heart, a certain feeling, a fondness, an ache when someone's away, an inability to think coherently when they are away, and a glow a warm thing that feeds and comforts you when they are close, then this wasn't love, because those things were absent when I thought of him.

But if love was friendship and compassion and devotion and dependence and kindness and a wonderful relaxed protected feeling when you are in their arms and when someone who's offered to help agrees, when the time comes to do exactly that and whose words and touches and kindness heal you.

Then this was love.

I loved him.

After all I'd gone through and thought about and agonized over.

I suppose there are really two kinds of love.

There is romantic love, a love where you absolutely cannot exist without that person in your life. Where one person is special above all others and rules your heart. Where two people come together and nothing on earth can drive them apart. Romantic love binds people together for years, sometimes for their entire lives. Another person you need to welcome against you and into you in the most intimate way.

Romantic love.

There is another love.

The simpler love between friends.

A warmth, a comforting dependency, a deep fondness, a trusting thing reliant on the affirmation and support of another person.

You could, I suppose call this merely friendship.

But I would say that there is no 'merely' about it.

Because friendship is what I felt for Yukino, for Inoue, even that moron Tsubaki.

What I felt for the person I was with now was far more than that, deeper and more trusting, more intimate if you like.

When your heart is broken, and you need someone to turn to and that person lets you come to them and collapse against them and they hold you tight and you bawl your eyes out, even then I would say that there is not only no 'merely' about it but that in fact this isn't friendship at all.

I'm sure, in its own way, this is love as well.

As I collapsed against his chest and he held me, and scooping me up in his arms carried me effortlessly to a bed and lay me on it and came down beside me and held me close and tight against him and murmured all sorts of meaningless but wonderfully comforting things until I fell asleep, then I would say, truly love was there.

- - - oOo - - -

I opened my eyes.

It was dark, and I was warm, and the world smelled of him.

I pulled away and sat up.

My clothes were crumpled and I felt uncomfortable and damp.

The actual thing I was doing seemed unimportant, I just needed to be as close to this person as I possibly could.

And what I was wearing was in the way.

I unzipped the dress and pulled it over my head.

I took off my underwear and turned back to him.

He lay on his side in the dark, eyes open, watching me.

The old shyness came over me and I kept my arms folded across my chest.

"I don't need… anything… I'm not asking you to do anything… but would you…?"

He sat up.

"I understand."

He pulled off his shorts, and drew his tee shirt over his head.

"Please. I don't need. That…"

"You just want to be close?"

"Hm."

I needed only the closest of human contact.

And bless him, the finest part of that fine boy that night was when he understood that. And in understanding that he did nothing but exactly what I needed.

I went to him again, and this time, in the dark and the warm with the breeze from an open window for our blanket and his smooth chest for a pillow and his heartbeat for a lullaby I cried again.

And after a while, his lips in my hair and his arms around me.

Needing nothing more, I slept.

- - - oOo - - -

_12 – 14 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Thirty Nine, and notes on Japanese words, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	40. It's Painful To Even Lead A Normal Life

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty – It's Painful To Even Lead A Normal Life**

_Nothing ever happens,  
Nothing happens at all.  
The needle returns to the start of the song  
And we all sing along as before._

- Del Amitri, Nothing Ever Happens

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I open my eyes and remember.

How strange it is to have imagined this moment so many times, to have dreamed of it, thought of it, written entire fantasies in my head about it.

I would never have thought in a million years that it would be like this.

Waking up for the very first time in someone else's bed, both of us without a stitch on and the other person isn't Maho and strangest of all, nothing at all happened.

That last thought makes me chuckle.

It's a good sound. I should do it more often.

I pull at a sheet which, as it unravels from the rest of the bedding, turns out to be unnecessary for hiding my sleeping companion's shame and, relieved, I continue to pull it from the bed and wrap it about myself, high on my chest and tuck it under my arms.

Like a small, very thin and very wrinkled snowman I leave the bed and go to the window.

The bedroom has full length glass doors that open onto a balcony. I go out. There is a plastic table and two chairs. Some flowers in tubs. That surprises me, I can't imagine him watering and caring for flowers. The sun is well up and it's already hot out here.

I sit.

With a hand I shade my eyes against the sun.

I look at the view of other houses, other gardens, power poles, distant trees.

I try to just look, try to cut out the thinking.

Too much thinking isn't good for you.

I'm the living proof.

I'm gonna give it up. Cut down to forty a day.

Do they make think patches?

I need some, so the thinking I have to do can go on quietly inside me and I don't send myself mad from the addiction of damn well doing it.

Chain-thinking. It's gotta stop, Sakana, it'll be the death of you.

After a while I hear movement inside and a little later the balcony door slides open again.

I look away, embarrassed. I've never done this before. I don't know how to behave in a boy's house first thing in the morning.

He puts a tray on the table. Tea, milk, bowls, cups, orange juice, a box of breakfast cereal.

My companion, it seems, has done this before. That only makes me feel worse.

I pour out cereal, add milk, select a spoon and crunch away.

I don't know what it is, I don't register the flavour but it keeps me busy.

Keeps me from thinking.

He pours tea, blows his breath across the steaming cup and takes a cautious sip.

He too looks at the view.

He's put on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.

Kindly, giving me space and sparing my blushes, he neither looks at me nor speaks.

- - - oOo - - -

Ten minutes pass.

"I expect you want an explanation."

I speak in a quiet voice, hesitant from awkwardness.

"No. I don't want anything from you. If last night was a help to you, that's all I need to know."

"Well, I want to tell you. I'd rather you knew. Last night I took you up on the hugging part of your offer. Now I want to accept the talking part."

He looks at me for the first time.

"I'm in love with someone. Yesterday I found out they love someone else. They don't love me. One of the worst things is, I never had a clue, not an inkling of it. This other person they love…"

_Stop beating about the bush Sakana, just come out with it, it'll make it a lot easier. And I don't particularly care now if he knows._

"This _boy_ she loves…"

I glance at him over my tea cup, he continues to stare at the view.

_Thank you, Asapin, for not making a song and dance about it._

"Well, I had no idea. I thought I knew her. I thought I had a handle on what kind of person she is. She's never mentioned this man before, so it was a complete surprise. And that hurts the most. Hurts that I just don't know her at all really. I'm confused."

"You're in love with another girl?"

"Don't get on my case."

"I'm not. I'm just trying to untangle what you're saying. I'm just. Well, if you are like that, it explains a lot. A lot of our conversations."

"Hm, I guess…"

"When I talked about record stores and furniture stores… Well, I didn't mean it quite that way."

"I know you didn't. You couldn't, but as it turns out your metaphor still works."

"I don't quite follow."

"No, it's okay, I'll tell you about my other shopping habits another time."

"You're a complicated person. So, anyway, your girlfriend, she's not like you. She loves guys?"

"Hm, it would seem. So… I don't know what to do."

"Do you want me to just listen or do you want me to say something?"

"Whichever you like. I came and used you last night, hid in your house, so I guess I owe you, you've a right to say what you want."

"Baka. That's complete nonsense. I told you before, if you hurt or need me, you come. It's an open invite. I'm not keeping account books. Last night doesn't indebt you to me. Sleeping with you doesn't give me rights. It doesn't make me your husband you know."

I look at him. Suddenly I burst out laughing.

"You… great big… baka!"

"Can I ask who it is? Do I know her?"

"I don't know. You'll know _of_ her. She's in my class. It's not anyone who was in the Maryland Project if you want to know. She's not one of the boy-chasing cuties."

A strange look comes over him, as though he's having a minor religious experience. Light dawns there.

"It's okay. It's all slotting into place now… I think its Izawa."

"How did you know? Did Yukino tell you?"

"You told Yukino?"

"Hm. Was that bad?"

"She's useless at keeping secrets. I like her very much but I keep my personal life from her. Arima and Arima alone hears my personal stuff."

"Oh. Now you tell me. So, how did you know I was in love with Maho?"

"I guessed. There have been rumours around. We do go to a school you know, not a monastery. People talk. In corridors, in clubrooms. People love to talk, especially about who might be going out with who. After manga and baseball I expect it's the most common subject in every school in the country. And of course if guys get a whiff of a girl-girl thing well, conversation-wise that's like gold dust. You know that Eguchi girl as well don't you?"

"Hm."

"I'd heard that she'd said something about you to Maho and well, the stories just get around. Plus I'd seen you looking."

"You had?"

"Oh yes, when she's around you look at her the way I look at girls. I wasn't too sure what was going on but now that I know its love I can see it. The way you look at her."

"Am I that obvious?"

His smile tells me I was.

I'm shocked. I had thought this was my secret, my wicked, hot, dark, dirty little secret.

"Who else might know?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if Izawa herself knows. Probably…" he leans forward and pours himself another cup, "…the only two people in school who haven't talked about it are you and her."

"You think so?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't far off the mark. So. You want more?" and he gestures at my cup too, waving the teapot at it, "in case you were panicking about telling her, no need. I think you might be surprised at her reaction."

"She still doesn't love me."

"You're all sorted out then, aren't you? You just need to find a girl to love who _does_."

I turn away in disgust.

"You're not helping much."

"I'll shut up then. I'll just be the boy whose door you can knock on and sleep with, okay?"

"Don't. You make me sound horrible, like I do this all the time."

"You should. It's nice."

"Stop it! I don't know whether you're being nasty to me to shock me or whether it's because you're a perverted sex-fiend!"

- - - oOo - - -

I abuse Asapin's hospitality further by using his shower and borrowing some money to buy myself a train ticket home.

I'm on his balcony again drying my hair.

"Arigato gozaimasu(1), Asapin. You've been so kind to me."

He bows.

"My pleasure, and… you were my first."

"First what?"

"First girl I slept with," he grins.

"No way! You've had girls before! You must have!"

This I don't believe.

"It's true, I swear," he puts a hand on his heart, "you are the very first girl that I have ever slept with... When nothing else happened."

I smile back.

"I should have known it…"

"No, really. That makes you special. I'm glad it was you. I think last night was lovely and I'm honoured that you trusted me and felt comfortable being that way with me. Kanahrin, your friendship means a lot to me."

Baka, he's going to make me cry again.

"Arigato, you're very kind."

I give him a quick hug. Then a thought comes to me.

"Oh, something else. All night, despite you being close. I didn't once feel like throwing up."

He looks down at me. A theatrical pouting hurt expression comes over his face.

"Ah, no. No, no, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Well that makes me feel _so_ good. Leaves my ego lovely and shiny and undented."

I put a hand over my mouth.

"Gomen, gomen. I didn't mean…"

"I know. That's good news. Whatever caused your problem before, perhaps it's getting better?"

"I might just have had more worrying things on my mind."

"That's okay then. Next time I want to kiss you, I'll just have to seriously piss you off first."

I laugh.

"That sounds lovely too. Practice that laugh. Oh, and I want to sleep with you again."

"Just sleep?"

"Yes, it's good for my soul."

"No, Asapin, it's good for mine. I'll call you."

"The girl I can't kiss unless she's upset, and the girl I only get to sleep with when she's traumatized. I can see that you and I are going to get along just fine."

"I think so. Bye, bye."

"Ciao!"

When I get home I reconnect the phone and then occupy my mind by putting some music on and doing the housework and laundry.

- - - oOo - - -

The phone rang.

"Hello."

"Ohi."

It was Yukino.

"Uh, are you okay?"

"Not really, Yukino, not really."

"I have your things here, that you left at Maho's. Do you want to come and collect them? I'm going to the park to walk the dog, wanna come? We can talk if you want to."

"Arigato."

We met in the park near her house. She was sat on the grass. Her silly little white dog was jumping around her trying to catch butterflies but it was too dim and slow.

I sat next to her.

"Gomen. For yesterday. I was a complete fool."

"Don't apologise to me. It's Maho you might want to talk to."

"I expect she knows. She's not stupid."

"Hm, we spoke after you left. She's pretty close to putting two and two together and coming up with a result not a million miles away from four. So talking to her now will be easy."

"There doesn't seem to be much point. She doesn't need me."

"Of course you should talk. And of course she needs you. She's your friend. She likes you, she told me. And it'll show her your feelings are genuine. And who knows, she could split up with her boyfriend any time. If you don't confess you'll go on like this for ever, never knowing what Maho thinks or might have done. If she rejects you, you can try and get on with your life, do something else."

"You make it sound like school coursework. It's easy for you to say, you're practically married."

"I'm trying to be practical. Even if she rejects you at first Maho could still come to have feelings for you eventually, just like I did with Arima. And if she isn't interested in anything… you know _complicated_, you'll still have her as a friend. Knowing what you do now, Sakana, you can't lose."

"I'll be just like Shibahime was with Arima then. Having a friend and someone else comes along who she loves. I don't think I could bear that. And her boyfriend's twenty eight! How can I possibly give her anything he can't?"

"Shouldn't you enjoy Maho's friendship while you can? Isn't it better to have loved her for a little while than missed the opportunity to have loved her at all?"

I watched her dog jumping about. Even though the butterflies were well out of reach the stupid creature still made these pathetic little bounces trying to catch them.

He didn't even close half the distance separating himself from his goal.

I knew just how he felt.

But he, on the other hand, was at least trying.

And apparently enjoying the chase.

"Arigato, Yukino. I don't know if you've helped me or not but I'm glad we talked. And thanks for bringing my stuff."

"She's tough. She acts like an older sister but for the first time, she's shown a softer expression."

"Who? Maho?"

"Hm. I think underneath that cyborg exterior she is a gentle person. Why don't you go try and find that? I'm sure it'll be an interesting journey."

I lay back and stared at the fluffy clouds drifting by and smiled inwardly at the image of Maho as a cyborg. What happened in all the best robot movies? The robot went wrong and the scientist reprogrammed it and everything was alright.

"Love is strange," Yukino was leaning back too, watching the clouds, watching the impossible blue that separated them, "In your heart it has no shape or weight. You can't measure its size or its strength. No-one has ever actually seen it, but it aches without a doubt. It responds only to a special person."

"Hm. It's a mystery to me why it drives us so. It takes a hold of our entire lives doesn't it, and compels us onwards on a journey we least expect. What's it like, Yuki, being so happily in love?"

"I've only really begun to find out these last few weeks while he's been away. How much I need him. All the time I want to see him. I want to be near him. Without him, it's painful to even lead a normal life. Maybe in reality I love Arima even more than I thought? I was just too immature, so I didn't realise it but in reality… But in reality, all along… it drives me, it feeds me, it both comforts me and hurts me.

"I hope you find love, Sakana, a person who will return your love. It's just… you don't need anything else. You attain complete peace, complete rest."

"I'll talk to her."

"Good. I'm rooting for you."

"When's Arima back?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh, wow, you must be wetting yourself. I won't bother asking you for a week or so if you want to meet up then."

She smiled at me.

- - - oOo - - -

_14 – 15 June 2007 _

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum._

_For author notes about Chapter Forty, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	41. Dancing In The Light

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty One – Dancing in the Light**

_In the summertime when the weather is hot  
You can stretch right up and touch the sky.  
When the weather's fine  
You got women, you got women on your mind.  
Have a drink, have a drive  
Go out and see what you can find._

- Mungo Jerry, In the Summertime

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

He called me again that evening.

"Just checking up on you. Wanted to make sure you weren't dangling from a roof beam or lying in your bath in a pool of blood."

"No, still here, you'll have to endure my emotional theme park ride a little longer."

"You know what I think? I think you need a little distraction, something to take your mind off things."

"Oh yes? Going to come round and make me lose my dinner again are you?"

"Oh no, better than that. I'm going to take you dancing. Tomorrow night. Club Yellow has the best DJs on Saturdays and DJ Lain is there tomorrow, so you gotta see him. The place'll be packed."

That sounded exactly like what I needed.

"Alright."

"I'll come over in the afternoon. We'll practice a little more, I can do us a little light something to eat then we'll go out later."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

- - - oOo - - -

I could have phoned her. That evening or the next morning but I just felt like I wanted to be away from the emotional meat grinder for a while. I knew that speaking to Maho about trivial things would just hurt (and, well, just be impossible basically) and trying to talk about _that _subject would be either hurtful or draining. Or both. And really I wanted to commit a day at least to any talk or meeting we had so that if a conversation began that needed time then I'd be free to do that.

The day after.

I promised myself I'd call her the day after.

That would be Sunday.

Hm.

But she'd been busy the previous Sunday.

Seeing _him_ I expect.

It made sense now. If he was a dentist he'd only have free time at weekends.

Well there was an advantage I had. I could be there any time.

Or even maybe we could share her? Monday to Friday for me, weekends for him?

Baka, Sakana. You're silly.

Well, phone Monday then.

Yes, Monday.

I promise.

- - - oOo - - -

He came round early and we had another fun session in front of my mirror.

Oh, that sounds really pervy doesn't it?

I was getting into this now. I knew the basic moves and my self-conscious wall was crumbling. He was a good teacher, even if I'd really rather just stand and watch.

We ate about seven then practiced on into the evening.

Eight o'clock, nine, ten.

"It's getting late. When are we going out?"

"We'll leave around ten thirty. It's an hour train ride. We'll get into the club about midnight."

"Isn't that a bit late?"

"Late?" he chuckled. "No, things are just getting going around then. You don't want to be the first people in, that's just embarrassing. Only losers are the first to arrive."

"Oh. What time does it finish?"

"Two, three maybe."

"Oh my gosh. I've never been out that late before."

"It's called growing up. You'll get the hang of it. And I'll be around. I know lots of people in the clubbing scene, you'll be fine."

"I'm going to get ready. What should I wear?"

"Avoid tight clothing. Those shorts you wore that first practice – too restricting. Just something light, something you won't get hot in and you can move in."

I went into my room and studied the contents of my wardrobe.

There wasn't much choice.

For a girl who's lost fifteen pounds in the last three months and who couldn't afford to spend, spend, spend all the time on her wardrobe, choice was limited.

I went for the little white sundress I'd bought at the beginning of the holidays.

It was pretty short though and had a loose skirt that I knew would be all flippy if I moved in it too much. It had no arms or shoulders, just spaghetti straps and quite a low front. _And_ it was rather thin material… Hm… I'd intended to wear it to get some sun in the garden or around town. Nothing too strenuous. It was a bit daring to dance in.

Especially to _that_ sort of music.

But it was light and loose enough. And I had Asapin with me.

That decided it. I could trust him not to be too pervy. Or rather, I should say, his perviness I could trust, if you know what I mean. I knew it wasn't real. Also if anyone else tried anything he'd protect me.

Underwear. I found myself worrying about underwear now too. Not because the bra would show under the dress (the straps would so it had to be a new one, a nice one) but because of _afterwards_. I had this feeling. Tonight there was going to be an _afterwards._ I was pretty sure there was a good chance of it. Leaving a club at three he'd be walking me home, so that meant inviting him in. And that meant…

Well, whatever it meant, me throwing up again more than likely, I still needed to wear something nice under the dress because it would show.

I've developed a somewhat weird attitude to underwear this year.

Uh, that sounded really dodgy too didn't it?

No, I mean in the last few years when I was a slob I just didn't care what I wore or what condition it was in, but since I started making an effort this spring I've thrown away all my old stuff. Now I just hate, hate, _hate_ it when underwear is a few months old and has begun to go grey and frayed at the edges from too many washes. Sorry, but it has to go when it gets like that. I can't even wear it when I'm round the house. I'd make do before but not any more.

So tonight I chose a newish bra, plain white but not too frilly, not too lacy. Practical and a bit silky. I wanted something that covered everything, fit well and wouldn't move about and show things with all that energetic leaping around.

Panties – easy, no contest. I'd bought a pack of them the other day, plain white cotton, very sensible, comfortable and covered everything. None of those ones that have tiny bum cheeks so everything hangs out. Sure, they're fun but not remotely practical to dance in under a dress like this.

So, that was all sorted then.

"Asapin, do you want to use the shower?"

"You go first. You'll be hours I expect, girls always are. I'll jump in quickly while you're dressing."

Baka, cheeky sod.

- - - oOo - - -

I finished and stood in front of my large bedroom mirror.

I have to confess that if I saw myself walking down the street I'd chat myself up.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

I'd put gel in my hair again and it was all nice and punky and spiky the way I like it.

I'd decided to avoid makeup. I imagined it would get hot in the club. And sweaty. So makeup equals bad idea.

Just to add a little something I'd put on a white velvet choker. I'm not sure what it is with chokers but I really like them. I'd pinned to the front of it a little gold charm I'd bought at the Ghibli museum, a little gold Kiki on her broom. Kiki went through some strange changes in her story didn't she? Meeting that fairly weird goofy guy and also Ursula – going to sleep with her in her forest cabin. There was a yuri theme there if ever I saw one.

So, Kiki and me, kind of similar girls on similar paths.

- - - oOo - - -

He was all ready to go waiting in the kitchen.

He had put on thin black linen trousers, a very baggy black shirt that looked a bit silky and black trainers. Around his forehead, Samurai style, was a black sweat band keeping his hair out of his eyes.

On the head band were kanji characters in white.

THIS WAY UP, they said.

I suppose it was funny if you'd been there but it just seemed odd to me.

He looked a little like a Vietcong soldier in all that black stuff.

It was kind of odd – me all in white, him all in black. Symbolism, the maiden and her dark master or something like that.

I stood in the doorway watching him as he went to the fridge and helped himself to some more of my chilled barley tea.

I didn't mind, he seemed to have provided a lot of the food and drink around here in recent days.

But it did give me an opportunity to just stand and watch.

I had no complaints.

In fact…

He looked great.

I'd not noticed recently but I think he's getting taller and leaner.

He must be nearly six feet now, tall for a Japanese at his age.

It may just have been the loose shirt but he seemed slimmer too.

Yes, very nice. Very nice indeed.

He saw me and looked over the top of his glass at me.

"That was quick. All set?"

"Sure. Do I look okay?"

He came out from behind the breakfast bar and stood a few feet in front of me.

For the very first time I saw his eyes do it. All that time at the beach and so on he always looked at my face. This time, it happened, just for a second. His eyes flicked down to look at my chest before coming back up to my face.

Aha. Caught you. So you're normal after all.

Or perhaps you finally see something you like?

"Yeah, fine. Let's go."

_What?_

_Is that it?_

_I go to all this effort for our first real proper grown up date and 'yeah, fine' is all you've got to say?_

_What's with all that then?_

A little put out I followed him to the door.

"Ah, bag. Can you leave it behind?"

"This?"

My little white plastic clutch bag.

"You don't want to be worrying about that while dancing. What's in it?"

"Girl stuff! Mind your own business!"

"How much of what's in there is essential?"

"You're a nosy so-and-so."

"If you take it, you'll regret it."

I opened the bag. Given that I didn't need any makeup and given that there was no time of the month worries I could leave a lot of it behind. In a pinch I could leave the phone as well, the address book, afro-type comb. I picked out my perfume atomiser, lip moisturizer, my I.D., door key and my money. Probably that was all I needed.

"I have to take these."

He bent down and placed his face very close to my neck. Instinctively, _a man close_, I turned away, something funny happened in my stomach, a lurch, an unwell feeling.

He stood.

_Hm, that was unpleasant. Don't __do__ that without warning me._

"You smell wonderful, you won't need perfume."

"Yes I will, if I get all hot and pongy I will."

"I don't plan on letting anyone else get close enough to you to notice and as far as I'm concerned your pong is easily as nice as your perfume anyway, so no, you don't need the atomiser."

He has this certain style about him, doesn't he? This certain way with words where, if it was anyone else you'd slap them, but because it's him, it's okay.

"What's this? Lipstick?"

"Moisturizer."

"You don't need that do you?"

"Of course. Keeps my lips soft. Stops them drying out."

"I'll do that."

"Oh, how did I guess that line was coming? Please take it with you, it's hardly a lot to carry for a big strapping boy like you."

"Hm, okay. And door key, fine. But you won't need money."

"Asaba Hideaki, I am _not_ letting you pay for the whole evening! I refuse to go if you won't go halves with me. You treat me far too much as it is."

"You pay more than your fair share!" he retorted

"What are you on about? You hardly let me pay for _anything_ and it's beginning to piss me off!"

"What I meant was, you delightful fragrant cutey, is that just by being with me you are contributing more than enough to my days out, so no need to embarrass me by spending money on top of that and making me look cheap."

_Oh, you creep!_

I made a 'finger down my throat to make myself throw up' gesture.

"That won't work with me. Pretty words are just pretty words. Cute you may be and full of sweet talking nonsense but I'm not going to back down over this. I want to pay my way tonight."

"Alright then, when I bring you home, you can do your bit."

"I'm serious, Asaba. It's becoming annoying."

I folded my arms and waited.

"How much money is that?" he asked

"Fifteen hundred Yen."

"And you had intended to spend it all tonight?"

"Yes, its all blow-able tonight if that's what you mean."

"Make a gift of it."

I frowned.

"What?"

"Give it to me as a present. Then you've spent your money tonight and I still pay for the evening for us."

"Asaba, you're just odd. Your mind is warped."

"I know. Nice isn't it?"

My fifteen hundred disappeared, along with the lip moisturizer into his bumbag. He reached for my I.D. card and glanced at it.

"So that just leaves this. And as you're… Oh, on the twelfth of August?"

"Give that back you rat!"

He held it up. Way, way up out of my reach.

"Interesting. It's your sixteenth birthday next Saturday."

"You are a boy with no honour, now give that back!"

I slapped both palms to his hard chest, grabbing fistfuls of silk shirt. It was a lovely shirt but I didn't care, I'd rip it off him if I had to, in order to win this argument.

"Oh, you want this back?"

"I mean it! I'm not playing!"

"And what are you going to do? Down there? Snuggle my ankles to death?"

"A knee in the bollocks should do it. Now give it back."

"Your knee won't reach."

"I have a very strong grip, and strong arms. A swimmers arms are perfect for ripping insolent boys thingies off."

"I'll put it in my bumbag with the money, _my_ money, and now you don't have to carry anything. The card is no use getting you into the club anyway, I have other ways to do that."

"The police will need to see it when they arrest me for biting your whatsits off!"

"Really?" he looked at me with amused interest, and then coolly: "your mouth isn't big enough."

"You're not funny. Now shut up and just take me out before I decide I don't like you anymore."

I stood, fists balled up and held at my sides staring at the floor.

"Wow."

"Now what?"

"When you're angry like that, you're really cute."

"Good. That's one way to get to kiss me then, so I don't chuck up all over you. Wind me up something rotten why don't you?"

There was a pause, it all went quiet. I looked up.

He was watching me and he had a really funny look on his face. There was maybe a slight smile there. I'm no expert, I've had very little experience of such things and I don't know any better but if I had to use one word to describe his expression then it would be 'hot'. He just had this delicious lean hungry look in his eyes. It was most peculiar and I don't know what caused it unless it was me getting angry.

Maybe that's what he likes, angry girls.

I've read about it in magazines, couples who fight, who practically beat each other black and blue then half way through some sexual circuit closes and they rip each others clothes off and do it wherever they happen to be. In the kitchen, in a park, in the office.

Strange.

It was an exciting expression to see but I hope he didn't need a fight before he felt that way.

I'm not much of a fighter.

I'm more of a run-away-whimpering-and-curl-up-into-the-smallest-ball-possible kind of girl.

"So, you've taken my money, you've very rudely found out my birthday and you don't care how I smell. I suppose we'd better go and enjoy the evening then."

"Yes," he said in a very different tone, a calmer tone, "let's do that."

- - - oOo - - -

Tokyo city centre at midnight on a Saturday in August.

Something I had never experienced before, and I was almost sixteen.

Sad, isn't it?

That's what shutting yourself away from the world at the age of eleven does for you. I'd had a childhood – sort of – but my adolescence had been a big fat zero, no experience of a social world at all, no friends, no going out in the evenings, nothing.

I was like a child at Christmas. It was all new and big and scary and wonderful.

A hot summers night, the traffic crawling along the streets, car windows open and thumping music reaching out to insult you. Young men inside looking cool and staring at you as they pass. Their looks going over you and making you feel naked. It was unnerving.

In one way.

In another…

…I liked that buzz.

That frission from having a stranger do that to you.

With his eyes.

Crowds of people on the streets, even at midnight. Mostly young people, girls dressed up looking gorgeous, boys more casual but looking mean and hard and like they know everything.

Compared to me.

They do.

All the time people watching you.

I knew straight away that I'd worn the wrong clothes. Most girls were in skirts or trousers and crop tops, bare middles were in fashion. Almost no-one wore a dress.

I was wearing a daytime dress.

I felt a little stupid.

Dumb clueless chick comes to the big city.

It was exciting though, like a forbidden city, a wicked evil place where style, violence and perverted things went in equal shares. The girls… I couldn't tear my eyes off some of them. It was like they were dressing just so men would be excited, want to undress them, want to do things to them.

No wonder there was such a bad crime rate, so much horrible stuff. I felt I wasn't wearing enough clothes.

We were passing a long queue of people stood on the pavement.

It ended at a small ordinary looking doorway with a bright yellow lighted sign above it. We had passed the queue of people waiting to get in. Asapin did, it would seem, know some people at the club. I reached for him and slipped my hand inside his arm. I was fearful, this was all new, all rather scary. He glanced down at me and held my hand more tightly in the crook of his elbow.

He went straight up to the door and the black-clad beefy bouncers gave him wide grins.

"Yo, Hideaki-san, good evening! Step right through."

"Evening boys, good to see the doors are in safe hands tonight."

"Only the best security for you. Enjoy!"

"I will."

I saw him slip one of the big guys a folded banknote.

"Hello pretty lady, you're with Hideaki-san tonight?"

I nodded, somewhat overawed. You see these scenes in the movies, the cool street-wise hero getting into the exclusive club because he knows the right people.

I was in a movie!

I was the Bond girl! I was with Bruce Willis! My girly fantasy world went into overdrive.

Inside it was almost black and rather warm. From deeper within the building a thudding beat rumbled.

He led me past a ticket booth and slipped the guy inside some money. The guy barely glanced up but there were two more men here in dark glasses (how could they see anything?) and one of them nodded to Asapin. That man received a folded banknote as well.

I didn't want to think too much about any of this.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was entirely at Asapin's mercy. I had nothing on me at all, no I.D., no money, no phone. If anything happened, if I got separated from him I'd be. Well, what would I be? In serious trouble.

I moved closer to him, pressed against him. I trusted him but he was just one guy, just an ordinary sixteen year old high school boy.

"You okay?"

"Hm," I nodded, feeling anything but.

Even so, it was exciting. There was something about being completely at someone's mercy, relying entirely on someone. It made me feel. Well, I've told you before how I sometimes feel. I was a little afraid but that feeling of fear in itself was exciting. Exciting in a dangerous, even a naughty way.

Submission.

There we go again.

That word.

Packed full of nasty meaning.

How I loved it.

We descended some stairs and went through another set of doors. The beat of music was louder.

Finally Asapin pushed open one more door and we entered a room full of everything at once. Full of darkness and light at the same time, full of pulsing raw sound, full of people, it was full of hot moist air and at the same time air conditioning pipes pumped waves of cold at you, cold dryness.

I can't describe that room, I can't do it justice. You need Aya to write this, I can't.

The one thing was the noise, the punching pounding stamping music. It was like a boot heel on your face, again and again it struck you. The only other thing was the people, the place was packed, absolutely heaving, everyone bouncing up and down or dancing or crammed into corners, yelling to be heard. There were pulsing lights overhead, twisting lasers patterning the walls, pain-white strobes running that made everyone freeze and become silhouettes. And smoke, there was some kind of chemical smoke being made too.

Asapin let my hand out of the angle of his elbow and held it in his hand. He pulled me after him to a long bar thick with people. Drawing me tight against him he pushed through the crowd and we reached the bar. Money came out and after a few minutes he got someone's attention and two bottles came our way.

He pulled me away and found a pillar to lean against a little way from the centre of the main dance area, although people seemed to make their own small parties in various different corners.

"ALRIGHT?"

"OH MY GOD!"

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"NOISY!"

"GOOD!"

"WHAT?"

"IT'S RUM. RUM AND FRUIT JUICE. ITS OKAY!"

"WHEN?"

"YEAH! ISN'T IT?"

And that's how the conversation went. It was useless to try and talk much. You had to put your mouth to a person's ear and shout. That was fine for Asapin, he could bend down to me and do that. I couldn't reach his range of hearing. If I wanted to speak I had to pull on his arm or touch him some other way.

My sense of complete dependency on him went up another notch.

I'm going to confess that I liked it.

It was like.

My God, this is going to sound very strange.

You're going to think I'm dirty and twisted and shameless.

Perverted.

Maybe I am.

It was like I had to reach up and ask his permission to talk to him. As though…

…why am I embarrassed to tell you this?

Like I was…

…his property.

His. Slave.

There. I've said it. And now I've admitted it I feel better, it makes me feel good to admit the truth.

I was completely and totally in his power.

I expect he had no idea what that was doing to me.

We'd been in the place only fifteen minutes. Half way through our first drink and I was helpless.

Completely.

Deliciously.

Available.

We stayed by the pillar and finished our drinks. By means of gestures and yells he made it plain that you didn't ever leave your drink anywhere and go back to it. Someone might put drugs in it. So the idea was to get a drink, finish it, do some dancing then take a break and have another drink.

The bottle he'd got me was white rum and fruit juice mixed. I couldn't taste the rum, only the juice. I drank it quickly.

We finished.

"DANCE?" he shouted.

"HAI!"

He pulled me among the dancers.

And then it happened.

I became… another person.

The press of people around me, their heat. The cold blasts of air conditioning. The lights flickering and flashing, the music. The music was the same stuff I'd practiced to in my library but here, with five hundred people next to you it was no longer a question of drums, voices and synthesizers. It was a primitive beat thing, a tribal thing. I thought of circles of men in the African night around campfires dancing to drums or maybe American Indians in their forests hundreds of years ago with the sweat lodge smoke in their eyes and their minds and the place moving away from them leaving them merely as spirits and whirling jumping vibrating things. Animals.

That's the only way I can describe it. It filled a very primitive basic need in me. In all these people I think.

You could feel the enjoyment of those around you radiating out, their fun and excitement. Their spirits.

And for me the focus of it all was him.

In front of me, indecently close, pressing close. Sometimes his hands near me, above me waving around me and sometimes on me. He would put his hands in my hair, or on my shoulders or hold my hands, my arms. Or he'd hold my waist.

So different from our practice days.

This wasn't a thing with just music now.

It was a thing with your body, with his body, with flesh against flesh.

I was high from the place, from the drink, from my delight to submit to him.

And most of all from how he touched me.

I knew that when I danced, when I bounced and spun around my skirt was showing him more than was decent. I knew, I could feel other people looking too.

That should have upset and embarrassed me.

But it didn't.

Because I had him with me.

Or rather, he had me. He had me. He could do anything he wanted and I'd agree. That was my mood that night.

The beat changed and he grabbed me and drew me out of the crowd. We went again to the bar, squeezing in, waiting to be served. Then again to a space he made for us near a wall.

I was hot, sweating, I took a deep drink. Nice. More fruit juice.

And so it went on.

The evening became a blur.

But I loved it.

I have never had such fun.

We were dancing again.

Fourth dance?

Fifth?

He was close again and now, with the heat and his sweat his silk shirt was sticking to him. The shirt had an open front and still moving, still bouncing, I put my hands inside it, through the slashed front and placed them on him where he was firm and slick and hot. I slid my hands around him and wondered how close I could get before I felt those feelings coming.

The feelings where my stomach flipped and lurched and I knew the only way this could end would be with me losing my last meal.

But he put his hands on mine and moved them away. I looked up at him. He was smiling but shaking his head. He dipped his face down close to mine. As his lips moved I felt them brush my ear, felt his breath on me.

"JUST DANCE! JUST ENJOY THE DANCING!"

I felt as though I'd done something wrong, something forbidden. Like I'd laid my cards on the table.

He was grinning at me like crazy.

"YOU-VEE!"

His warm breathed gusted against my skin.

I didn't understand.

"YOU-VEE LAMBS!"

I shook my head. Nope, I'm lost. Help me out here. I frowned at him.

In answer he put his hands on my forearms and pushed me away from him and stared down at my front.

I stared too.

Ultra-violet lights. Lots of them. Bathing the dance floor. And I was in a thin white dress. In UV light white luminesces, it glows. And it almost becomes transparent. In panic I saw that I was wearing a see-thru dress.

Oh my.

I lunged at him, hugged him, embarrassment overflowing.

I could feel the eyes of the people around on me.

_Shit! Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!_

"DON'T PANIC! YOU CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!"

I looked again. My underwear wasn't as thin. It showed through the dress but thank God, nothing showed through it.

He put his hand under my chin, lifted my head.

"AND. YOU LOOK AMAZING!"

He grinned and nodded in affirmation.

Oh my God, it was still more perverted than I could handle.

I pulled on his shirt, stood on tip-toe. He bent down.

"NEED TO STOP. GOMEN, DON'T LIKE IT!"

"NO WAY, YOU LOOK FANTASTIC. KEEP DANCING!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, face pressed against him.

_No._

_Can't._

"COME ON! DANCE! GO FOR IT!"

His hand came onto my wrist, his other hand to my other wrist.

_Oh, no._

_Not that._

_Don't do that._

_Don't hold me._

_I won't be able…_

…_to resist._

He uncurled my arms from his chest and pulled them open, pulled them down and out to my sides. Held them out.

I was going already, losing the ability to resist.

To want to resist.

To stop him.

We'd stopped dancing.

He held my arms out wider, away from my sides, pushed me a little away from him. I looked down.

People were looking at us.

I could feel them.

Looking at me.

Feel their eyes on me.

It made me feel so wrong.

And at the same time.

His hands.

Opening me.

Spreading me.

Making me stand there when I'd rather run away.

Run and hide and curl up.

But he wouldn't let me.

And now, in the space of a few moments.

I no longer wanted him to let me go.

I wanted him to force me.

To stay here.

Exposed.

People looking at me.

_Oh, God, I'm fucked up._

_I scare me._

_Do I hate me?_

_Not sure…_

_Yet I love it too._

_I love having him so in control._

Taking away my choices and making them for me.

That sweet glow was back, down below, in my middle.

That warm need, that delicious hot thing.

My body began to do what it does to make me helpless.

Began to make itself ready.

Moistening.

Opening.

Mmm… God, and stiffening.

His face came close. There was no nausea this time.

"DANCE. DANCE FOR ME."

He began to move slowly, gently. Completely out of time with the music which was a fast hammering slamming beat. But I could see he was moving to a beat within the music, a much slower one that no-one else was moving too. It was the bass beat, and not each beat either, about every third one was louder and it was that hidden beat he moved too.

He held my arms out wider, exposing me, so people could see.

Me.

And I wanted them to.

_God, yes._

_I think._

_I'm sick._

_To want this._

I began to move with him, to his beat. At first just my hips, my shoulders, my head.

He smiled at me, nodding.

My arms held out wide, helpless, I danced.

And became at once ready.

And wet.

Hmmm… never like this, never before have I felt this. And never so quickly, never so quickly have I become ready. Not even alone when I excite myself.

The sense of exposure, of being under someone else's control.

Of being.

Held open.

Of being.

Available.

Of being.

_Used._

I closed my eyes and let a little moan escape my lips.

Oh, yes. Oh, yes, very much yes…

This was good.

I began to move more, to really dance, to sway and turn, to flick my hips so that ridiculous short skirt flipped up. To put my head back and expose my throat to him.

_Antelope, antelope._

_Yes, rip me._

I moved against him and did something so rude, I danced against him.

His presence, so much more than mine, so tall, so wide, so strong.

I put my face to his chest and pressed myself to him and still danced.

He spun me around, switched wrists, so now left held left, and right, right.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes…

My back to him facing the rest of them. Anonymous faces in the dark. My dress under the UV lamps transparent, my bra and panties showing through. Strangers looking. Men looking. And girls too.

Oh, my God…

And then, as damp and ready as I already was, he made it worse.

Or, I suppose, better.

He lifted my arms, slowly raised them until they were above my head. He slipped his hands to my upper arms, more comfortable for him, easier for him to hold me.

_Handcuffs._

_Where had __that__ thought popped up from?_

_Put handcuffs on me, so my wrists are pinned up above my head._

_And then._

_So I can't stop you._

_Touch me._

_Touch my chest._

_Squeeze me there._

_Hard._

_And lower._

_Down lower._

_Over my stomach, my curving belly._

_Lower still._

_Touch me there._

_Where I'm ready._

God, I was going. This was too much. I was too naughty.

And now I pressed my bottom against him.

And I'm sure I could feel him.

The hard man part of him.

I pressed harder, sending him an unmistakable message.

I slipped my arms behind his neck,

_handcuff me_

and he bent his face down near mine.

"YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS AREN'T YOU?"

"YES! AND YOU ARE TOO! I CAN FEEL YOU!"

I was terrible.

What a rude girl.

I'm not, I'm just not like this usually. Only in the privacy of my own head, my private bath time fantasies.

And even then, I've never had thoughts like this, so explicit.

But this situation, everything about it combined and converged on me to make me want.

_What?_

_Him_

_It._

_You know._

_Yes._

I wanted to do it with him.

I was going beyond the place I could stop.

In fact I think I was well beyond already.

With my arms up behind his neck he let go of mine.

My immediate reaction was disappointment but then he slipped his hands down and around my front and held my tummy and began to stroke and caress it as we danced. And of course this was where I had just imagined he could be, could touch.

Would touch.

My mind was almost screaming.

_Put one hand up. Please…_

_Touch my breast. Hold it. Cup it. Squeeze it. Find my nipple._

_Uh, pinch it._

_Your other hand._

_Lower._

_Cup me._

_Feel my heat._

_What the fuck are you doing?_

Suddenly I moved away from him, walked, somehow (I don't know how) off the dance floor.

My God! What was I doing? What was I thinking?

For heaven's sake!

_You're out with a guy dancing and you're practically ready to make love to him right here!_

_What's __wrong__ with you?_

I reached a space, some steps. I sat down. I put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.

He was beside me.

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

My head was spinning. The room wouldn't keep still.

"MY HEAD! FEEL FUNNY!"

"DO YOU FEEL SICK?"

"NO! SPINNING ROUND. HOW MANY DRINKS HAVE I HAD?"

"FIVE!"

Oh, God. No wonder. I'd never drunk before apart from that shandy the other day. Now I'd had five bottles with rum in, a shot in each I guess… not… two? Surely not two shots in each?

Oh, my…

"CAN WE GO?"

"SURE! COME ON!"

He lifted me up and helped me out of the room and upstairs. I began to lose track of what was happening exactly. I still felt deliciously damp and warm and in need of being touched, but now the bloody world wouldn't keep still to let me enjoy it.

Outside.

Cooler.

Traffic.

Quieter.

People.

Fresh air.

Within a couple of minutes he was putting me in a taxi, I scooted over and he got in next to me. We drove.

"This is expensive."

"No trains at two in the morning. Taxi's the only way. Are you okay?"

"I think I'm drunk."

"Have you ever been drunk before?"

"Nope."

"Not going to be sick then?"

"No, not at all. Just – whirly, whirly."

"Right. Do not close your eyes. Keep them open. Focus on something."

"Hm, you, I think."

I reached for him, arms went around him, his around me. I put my face on his chest.

I checked carefully. Nope. No nausea.

Hm, promising.

"No, don't close your eyes. Look at me."

I tilted my head back and obeyed my lovely master.

I looked into his eyes.

Wow.

What beautiful eyes.

Why hadn't I seen this before?

What had I been doing to not notice how gorgeous his eyes were?

I had no problem focusing on them. No, none at all.

He opened a window and warm air gushed in whirling and swirling, flapping his shirt, his hair.

That was better. I breathed deeply.

His hand was in my lap. I looked down. He pulled my skirt down. I'd sat quickly and it was up, my panties showing. And bless him, he'd pulled it down.

Oh, Sakana, how embarrassing!

You drunken cow!

Pathetic.

I was further gone than I'd thought.

- - - oOo - - -

_15 – 18 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Forty One, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	42. Dancing In The Dark

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Two – Dancing in the Dark**

_Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?  
You been out ridin' fences for so long now.  
Oh, you're a hard one,  
I know that you got your reasons;  
These things that are pleasin' you  
Can hurt you somehow. _

_Now it seems to me, some fine things  
Have been laid upon your table  
But you only want the ones that you can't get.  
__  
- Eagles, Desperado_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

Quiet.

Dark.

Streetlamps.

Cicadas chirping.

The scent of gardenias, rich and sweet.

Night in suburbia.

Half past three, almost four. A tinge of pale in the eastern sky.

The taxi pulled away. I reached my front door and puzzled over how to get in. Where was my bag?

His hand appeared beside me.

"May I?"

It held a key.

_How?_

He opened the door.

I heard them. I listened.

Birdsong. The dawn chorus had started. I'd never heard it before unless it had woken me.

I looked around. Paler sky.

Strange, being up this late. Yet I wasn't tired.

He kindly motioned for me to go first. I stepped in, kicked off my shoes, went barefoot down the hallway and left into the big family room and sat on a bar stool at the breakfast bar.

He made the unconventional gesture of actually switching the lights on.

Ah, I was worse than I thought.

He got chilled mineral water from the fridge and poured me a large glass.

"Drink. As much as you can. Even if you're not thirsty."

"Yes, sir."

I drank. I was thirsty. He refilled the glass.

"More?"

"Hm, more. When you get drunk your body dehydrates, you'll have a hangover in the morning if you don't get a lot of fluid inside you, as much as you can stand."

"I'll be peeing all night."

"Better than waking up feeling like total shit I promise you."

I drank again.

"More?"

He filled the glass a third time but I wasn't thirsty.

"Take it to bed with you. At your bedside. If you wake in the night, drink it and refill it. It's the only way to beat a hangover."

My elbows rested on the kitchen top, my chin in my palms.

I felt terrible.

"Better. I'm feeling better."

He came and sat next to me.

"That's good."

I remembered what I'd done. I flushed with embarrassment.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Gomen. Gomen nasai, for earlier. I made a complete fool of myself."

I couldn't look at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Were you blind? When I was dancing! I must seem like a tart to you, a slut! Gomen. I'm so embarrassed…"

He put a hand on my arm. I pulled away. He put it back.

"Ba-ka. Don't talk rubbish. You'd had a few drinks that's all, and your inhibitions fell away. You were totally relaxed and getting into the music."

"You can be kind to me up to a point but don't throw empty words at me, please. I was behaving like a disgusting trollop and I'm not proud of it!"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"When I was standing there and those lights were showing through my dress. Any well brought up sensible girl would have walked out right then."

"Nonsense. You were just having fun."

I pulled my shoulder away again and got off the bar stool.

"Look, you can stop humouring me. I got stupidly drunk and behaved stupidly. I was even… well, pushing against you. It was disgusting. _I_ was disgusting!"

"I think you need to get things into a sense of proportion. First there were lots of girls there wearing far less than you were and showing a lot more. Everyone knows about the UV lamps. You didn't see the girl in the white tee shirt who had no bra on. What you did is nothing."

"Hold on, so everyone knows about the UV? You did too? You knew and yet you let me go dressed like this?"

"Because it's simply not a problem that's why."

"But it was my first time! You should have warned me!"

"Why? It just doesn't matter. Really it doesn't."

"It matters to me! And you got me drunk. You knew I'd not drunk before!"

"_I_ didn't get you drunk! You got yourself drunk! You're not a child Kanahrin, and I'm not going to damn well treat you like one. You're a woman, you can make your own decisions about drinking. I am not going to hold your hand!"

"You bought me the drinks!"

I'd not noticed but by now I was shouting.

Asapin took a step back. He looked at me carefully for a moment.

"It's late. I'll phone for a cab and let you sleep."

He got his phone out.

I fumed and cursed and hated _him_ for being so bloody right. _And_ myself: I hated _me_ for being bloody stupid me. Once for being so stupid in the club and twice for losing it now and upsetting him.

My hand went out and lay on his arm.

"Wait. I…"

A moment of silence passed, the moment became another. A string of moments ticking, ticking. So much ticking silence, even a knife wouldn't cut it.

"Gomen. I've not thanked you for a lovely evening."

"Was it? You have a funny way of showing it."

"Gomen. How many times do you want me to say it? Until I did that stupid stuff it was the most fun I'd ever had. It even beats body boarding. So, arigato gozaimasu. And please forgive me for being such a... a… baka."

"That's alright. It was my pleasure," he gave me one of his silly flowery bows, "Even at the end."

"Don't remind me of it."

"I want to. Because you did look marvellous. Really you did. I could see you were getting into it. And you know. Your dancing? You're getting very good."

I blushed again, more than the first time.

"I said a while ago how pretty you are when you blush. Well… when you dance. You're even prettier. You move beautifully."

I stared at the floor.

"It must be the swimmer in you, the athlete, you've got good strong muscles. And good rhythm too."

Another silence. I was becoming quite well acquainted now, with this particular floor tile. And he was becoming well acquainted with the top of my head.

"Well. I'll phone."

He flipped his phone open and hit a pre-stored number.

And then. What happened then? I'm really not sure, but without quite knowing that it was me doing it, I had moved to him, reached out and flipped his phone closed.

I didn't say anything. I wouldn't have known what to say. I was beyond my familiar cosy boundaries now.

I couldn't look him in the eye.

Had he been a floor tile, it would have been so much easier. I was adept at having conversations with them.

In my field of vision his hand tucked away the phone and fell to his side. He turned to face me.

"Before you go. Do you want. Anything?" I asked.

I looked up. I fell into the impossibly beautiful eyes of a boy I didn't love, and who wasn't my boyfriend. Honest.

And I wasn't his girlfriend and I knew he didn't love me. And here I was, wanting something I felt wasn't mine to ask him for. I didn't know what to do.

"Coffee? Tea? Or…?"

"Or what?"

In a very small voice, spoken again to the floor tile, a whisper: "Gomen."

"Sakana."

His hand came up and rested on my shoulder. It rose, cupped my cheek. Lifted my head.

"If I stay, we know what will happen."

I stared at those eyes and was unable to respond.

"Do you want this?" he asked.

"I don't know… I…"

"It's important. It's not enough to not know. Please decide."

His voice was soft, kind, encouraging. Yet still I held back.

"Can we just… like the other night? Can I just sleep with you?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Asapin, I don't know what I want. I want to hold you. And have you hold me. But I'm afraid. In case I react again. So I don't know what to do. I'd hate us to… have to stop part way if I feel bad."

"It's okay. Why don't we just take it slowly?"

"Gomen. I'm so unfair on you."

_And you, Maho. Aren't I?_

_You are my other worry._

_It's you I love._

_So why am I sleeping with this person?_

_Someone I don't even love._

_With you I know it would be pure, and beautiful._

_Yet here I am, trapped by my own desires._

_Wanting this._

He lowered his hand from my face, ran his touch over my shoulder and down my arm. He took my hand. He stepped back. Pulled me with him.

"Come."

He walked backwards holding my hand, drawing me after him. I went, feeling like a lamb going to slaughter, feeling fear and wonder in equal parts. Backwards across the hallway he led me, our bare feet, our bare hearts silent in the dark. His eyes never left my face, I watched them shining in the gloom.

"Which is your room?"

"Behind you."

He switched on the hall light and slid the shouji open, drew me in. Like a fish on a line, a dog on a lead.

A slave on a collar.

He drew me by his hand into the room, swung me slowly round. With his back to the shouji he slid it shut. The screen door allowed some light through, the room was in half-light.

"Bedding?"

I pointed with my free hand.

Again, the owner dragged his property after him, he pulled a futon from the cupboard and with one hand shook it out and lay it down. One pillow. Just one. To share. He dropped two folded sheets on the futon.

The altar was ready.

Now.

The lamb.

The sacrifice.

He stood and studied my face.

"Are you sure?"

"No. But…" I could hardly speak, "Dance. Dance with me. I…"

The hand holding mine went to my waist, his other held me on my other side.

I just put mine behind me.

He came close and began to sway to the silent music. His hands on me pressed more and moved me from one side to the other. He took one of my hands and lifting it above my head I twirled in place. Around once, around again.

And in the dark, to that wonderful silent music, we danced. For five minutes I was able to close my eyes to everything but him. But those eyes, his eyes and his hands led me gently around that room, that dark place I've often lain and wondered about this night, wondering what it would be like.

The music stopped.

Which for music that never existed in the first place is pretty impressive.

But I knew it had stopped. We had stopped.

The time had come.

All I could hear was my own breathing.

There seemed to be a lot of it.

A lot of it, a lot of him and a lot of my own body in that room. And nothing else. My senses focused on only those three things.

His hands were on my waist. They moved up, behind my arms and up my sides, up my back. They came to rest on my shoulders.

"Remember," he spoke softly, "this should be enjoyable, and you should want to do it. If anything happens – you suddenly feel ill, or nervous, or afraid, if you want to stop. You don't have to give me a reason Kanahrin. If you want to stop, you just say so. And I'll stop. Do you understand?"

I couldn't speak. I could only nod.

"Are you alright with the light? Do you want more? Less?"

"It's fine. I'm fine. I want… to see you. And. I want you to see me."

He pulled with his arms and I went forward, he pulled me against him, holding me a moment. I felt my soft front press against him, felt that familiar tingle.

I breathed him in.

He pushed me back again and moved his right hand a little down my back.

And where it had been, on my shoulder, he filled the space with his face. He put his face there, his mouth. He kissed my skin there, on the round part of me, the very top of my arm. He kissed again, a little off the arm and moved again, kissing, kissing, moving slowly along my shoulder. Each kiss seemed different, had a different sensation as it touched a different part of me. His mouth reached the side of my neck and he pressed against me there where I was soft, where a frantic pulse beat, where under hot skin even hotter blood flowed. And his tongue came out, the very tip of it and touched against that pulsing artery in my neck. My mind imagined a hiss of steam as the moisture on his tongue met my scalding flesh.

He moved down, his mouth walking across my skin, down to my collar bone and along it, across to my throat.

And then came the first time.

In the nightclub a sound had come out of me when I'd just been dancing because the sensations were so nice.

Now, this time as his mouth came up from my collar bone, up the front of my neck, up my tender hot throat.

Now I moaned. The first time a boy had touched me and made that happen.

I tilted my head back, right back, exposing my soft neck. Letting him have it.

My soft defenceless antelope flesh.

_Rip at me, tiger rip me._

He kissed up my neck, and now his tongue was leaving a hot wet trail, a screaming trail of wonder and newness.

Weirdo that I am, I put my arms behind me, clutching one wrist in the other. I wanted my neck, my whole front to be exposed.

I moaned again.

Every exhale seemed to be more than a breath now, a sound came with it.

An involuntary, breathy _wanting_ sound. I couldn't help it.

His mouth came up, kissing up my neck, under the point of my jaw where it was tilted right back and my chin pointed to the ceiling. He kissed my chin.

_I don't know._

_What will happen…_

…_when…_

…_he kisses me._

_My._

_Lips._

He avoided my mouth.

_Thank God. And thank you. He knows I might not be ready._

His lips came around, along my jaw, to my ear. His breath on my ear, so warm, so gentle. Then his mouth was there too, his lips, his tongue.

Why is kissing the ear such a cliché? Why do people talk about it so much? I had no idea why up until that moment. Because I'd never had my ear kissed. No-one had ever drawn the soft lobe into their mouth and run their tongue over it. No-one's teeth had ever nipped along the firm side of it and up to the top folds. And run their tongue inside just within the top curve.

Until then.

When he did.

And then I knew.

For me at least, I knew how and why so many stories mentioned it. Because it was good. So very good.

Not just nice, in a dreamy sort of way. But _good_. Good in a _hot_ way.

I had a vision, a vision of myself lying on my back, naked, my centre exposed and his tongue _there_, down there. The place I was suddenly hot again, as hot as I'd been in the night club. And as wet.

Where such a rude vision suddenly jumped out from I can't say. But my ear felt like that part of me. My core, my woman part. I know it isn't. I know I don't have any of the same nerve endings in my ear but I seemed to have. Suddenly I seemed to have. And Asapin seemed to have found them, his wet tongue dipped into me and made wetness run out of me elsewhere. As his teeth nipped my skin my centre pulsed and became swollen and hot and needy.

There were odd sounds in the room, groaning achy sounds. I was making them.

Too much. This was too much.

I moved my head to my right, breaking contact.

He stopped.

"Gomen," I apologised.

"Did I do wrong?" concern in his voice.

"Iya-desu(1). The opposite, quite the opposite. Too good, too nice."

"Really? Your ear?"

I nodded, "Hm."

"Oh. Right," he let a wonderful smile come over his face, "Kanahrin has sensitive ears. File that one away for later then."

"Hm. I can't tell you how sensitive. It felt like… Uh, it felt so rude."

"Really? Ooh, rude? But are you alright?"

"Yes, but I don't know what to do. You're being so nice to me. I'm doing nothing for you."

"That's fine. Right now His Magnificent Asaba-ness doesn't need anything. My enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoying yourself."

"Oh."

"So…"

And his mouth came back, beautiful and teasing and hot and wet and wonderful. He brought it back to my neck just below the ear and nipping teeth gently leaving a trail of heat behind, he moved back across under my chin (bent back head again, exposed, willing,

submitting).

He came around the other side up my other cheek.

The breathless noises returned, and for the first time I could feel him too. Pressed against me, deep in his chest, a humming tone. Him moaning a little too, his ribs vibrating against me.

He smelled so good. He had a smell that told me he was strong, in control and that I was his. I wanted to be his.

I felt inside myself, asked questions of myself and felt no misgivings, no nausea. Nothing yet. I willed him on. Touch me elsewhere, please. The places I have are more than my shoulders, neck and ear. I need your touch on me.

Where I'm soft. Where I'm a woman. Two places where I've stiffened and I'm aching. And one where I'm wet and wide open.

And when he reached my other ear and I found, whimperingly that I was just as sensitive on that side as well, that when he drew that earlobe between his lips and teased it wonderfully with his tongue, when he sucked on it, my groans of delight meant I hardly noticed what was happening behind me. But then I felt his hands on my back, across my bare skin between the straps of my dress, stroking my skin, caressing. One found the zip at the top of my dress and without hesitation, but slowly, agonizingly slowly, drew it down.

The zip purred open to the small of my back.

Fingers were there, warm and inquisitive, between the parted sides of the dress. On my skin, moving up. They trailed across the catch of my bra and up, up to my shoulders again. One hand moved to each shoulder.

I knew this story, knew the next chapter.

"Don't stop."

Someone said, and something told me it wasn't him.

The fingers ran out to my shoulders to the smooth curved tops of them and dragging the spaghetti straps of the dress with them, pushed them down and off. There was nothing to the dress, it was light and loose and unzipped couldn't stay up.

So it didn't. It obeyed gravity's demands and fell, catching only for a moment at the peaks of my breasts before fluttering down and puddling in a flimsy white froth at my feet.

There was something I wanted to do. I had sort of planned this and I hoped it would please him and I knew it would excite me. I stepped back, away from him. Several paces until I reached the wardrobe by my desk. It was closed by two doors with metal handles. I put my hands behind me and gripped them, laced my thumbs behind the handles and held myself there.

Demurely I stared at the tatami mats in front of me. In the gloom of the room, the half-light through the shouji screen there was enough to see me, to see my pale skin. I was so glad I'd chosen the sensible cotton panties. There was something innocent and nicely girlishly kawaii about them, the simple little nylon bow at the front. Something sexier, more grown up wouldn't have worked half so well. I had begun to tan but nothing much yet, but my plain white underwear shone in the gloom.

He, on the other hand was hidden, in black his dark presence was more felt than seen.

A bare foot came into my line of vision, then another, black linen trousers.

He stood before me.

I looked up.

His face…let me try and describe it. It was calm, and kind. He still had a little glimmer of that silly Casanova arrogance there, a curl of his lip that was the teasing fun Asapin I knew well. But also, there was more. Staring down at me, hazel eyes through his long silly brown fringe. There was a manly thing there in his eyes. I'd seen it earlier when we'd had that stupid argument about my I.D. card.

Heat.

Desire.

Lust.

Readiness was there.

These emotions, these feelings that lit up his face.

I loved them.

I loved it that I could cause them in him.

My heart was pounding and seeing his face like that, if anything my heart beat faster, his excitement excited me. My breathing quickened and I was conscious of my chest, the moving shape of me inviting his touch.

I wanted him to touch. So much I wanted it.

He lifted his silk shirt and pulled it off over his head. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his linen trousers and pulled them down, kicking them off. Black cotton boxers. Nice.

The colour of him, brown and sweet looking, that toffee colour, but in the gloom darker and more mysterious.

"Asapin?"

"I'm here."

"Do I? Uh, do I… please you?"

Then he did a very strange thing. He knelt down in front of me, a few feet away, sank down, his bottom onto his heels, hands in his lap.

"I want to look at you. Is that alright?"

This was odd. Is that what he likes? Looking?

But as well as my ears, I made my second discovery that morning.

I liked being looked at.

Call it a part of my submissive thing I guess, but stood there, hands behind my back, my ankles a foot apart, and feeling his eyes on me was.

Gorgeous. It wasn't as good as being kissed of course, but it wasn't half bad.

Only one thing would have made it better.

Take the belt from my towelling robe. And tie my hands behind me to these door handles. Then touch me. Pinch me where my body is stiff and swollen. Lick me where I'm soaking wet.

And hands tied, unable to stop you.

Let me writhe and moan and gasp and plead.

And crying out, shuddering.

Let my world be perfect.

He knelt there, looking. Like a monk in prayer. A priest at an altar.

I wondered, randomly, if the wetness of my panties showed. I could feel how damp I was. I wondered if there was a darker patch there, giving me away.

"I was mistaken," he said, solemnly, after a minute.

"Uh," I came out of my desperate, moist, private fantasies.

"Yes, you're pretty when you blush. And when you dance. You're pretty then. But now…"

"Oh."

I felt a blush beginning, creeping up my neck to my face and descending to my chest, deep and red and hot it was. As much a blush of arousal as of awkwardness.

"I think I misjudged on both counts. You're prettiest like this. Right now. Where I can see you. Your skin."

"Aren't I… Aren't I fat?"

Shame.

"God no, absolutely not. You're gorgeous."

He got up and came to me. He stood in front of me, taller. I couldn't easily tilt my head back; the wardrobe door was in my way. He placed a hand to the right of my head, palm flat on the wood. Then his other on my other side. Bars of a cage. Trapping me.

A little whimper escaped my lips.

"Look at me."

I had to push myself a little away from the wardrobe in order to let my head tilt back. When I did so the burning hard points of my breasts pressed against him. Stabs of pleasure shot through my chest, into my body. Just like the other night.

I was reminded what a disaster the other night had become.

"I want to kiss you."

I couldn't reply, except hoarsely, by merely breathing.

"Would you like me to?"

"Yes. Onegai, yes."

_Please don't be sick. Please don't be sick. Please don't be sick. Please. Don't. Don't. Don't be sick._

_Please…_

He tilted his face a little, angled it, and moved closer. With each breath I took, my breasts pressed into him. I found myself arching away from the wardrobe behind me trying to get closer to him. It was a soft bra, a little satiny, and I could feel my scalding stiff flesh pressing against his firmness. And lower, my stomach domed out a little and there. Down there, I was touching something else. Something deliciously hard.

Oh, my God. He was. His _thing_ was…

He stopped just inches from me, a slight frown clouded his expression.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "I want you to be sure."

"Asapin," my reply was throaty, "hurry up and kiss me, or I'm going to wet myself."

So he did.

I closed my eyes and felt him come against me, warm and firm and gentle and moving and smelling wonderful. His flesh pressed against mine, his lips a little parted but nothing else, nothing rude. He withdrew and came back, pressing again. And again he broke contact and returned a third time. This time my mouth was open and he kissed my lower lip and drew it between his a little. Then he moved his face to one side and kissed the corner of my mouth. Back to the centre, more pressure.

He withdrew.

I opened my eyes.

"Onegai shimasu. Don't stop."

He glanced down at me but I didn't quite see what he was doing, nor his right hand that lifted from the wood beside my head. I didn't care.

He'd kissed me. My first ever kiss on my lips and I hadn't thrown up, nor was I feeling ill. Nor had I fainted. I drew in a deep breath.

Oh, yes. Wonderful.

He returned, again pulling my full lower lip between his and doing delightful things to it, pressing it, trapping it, letting it go and then coming forward to capture it again. He'd tilt his head the other way so our faces met from the other side. He liked my lower lip. That much was obvious. He kissed the end of my nose, my chin, my cheeks, my jaw.

He pulled away again.

"So pretty. And you taste…"

He came back. More. More of him, more of everything.

And down below, I pressed my belly out and felt his hot stiffness.

"Uhn…"

I couldn't keep the moan of pleasure in. I realised I was moaning all the time.

He drew back, smiled. I smiled back.

"Alright?"

"Yes, very."

"Don't feel unwell?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

His right hand came up and cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing gently under my eye. The hand descended to my neck and held the pulse of my life that beat there, so fast. It moved lower, to my shoulder.

His wonderful mouth came back.

He moved slowly again down to me. I was pleading for it. And he was merely responding. I was up on tip-toe, my face tilted back. Moaning to have him back on me.

"Mmm, again…"

I couldn't get enough of it. He tasted so good.

He would bring his face close and I'd try and reach his mouth with mine, and the bastard would pull away. Then come back and straining, on tip toe I'd nearly touch him again, or briefly feel him and he'd be gone, teasing, teasing.

I was whimpering in my need to have him.

Yukino's silly little dog jumping for butterflies.

I was like that. As silly. And as desperate. Rising up, helpless in my need, trying, trying.

Despite all his stupid Casanova posturing, all his daft pervy bravado, he _was _good at this. He'd definitely done this before, no doubt about it.

Suddenly as I was about to squeal in annoyance his mouth pressed hard down, much harder than before, squashing me down. I gulped and moaned under him, my breath in his mouth, his in mine. He almost crushed me backwards, I collapsed under him, letting him win, wanting him to win.

His right hand drifted down, down my arm. He shifted his body away from mine a little, a space was made between us and still I was clueless as to what he intended.

And then two things happened at exactly the same time. Two amazing wonderful things that sent me nearly to the edge.

He opened his mouth and this time, instead of sucking on my soft lower lip, he ran his tongue along it, and then a little inside it until it stroked against my teeth. These I parted and he came inside, his tongue ran along the backs of them. And then in one swift pushing hard wet motion he was crushing against me and my mouth came helplessly open and he was inside, pushing in, his tongue became a penis and my mouth became a wet receiving place. He was pressing, pushing, searching, finding my tongue and making me moan again.

And then. And then… my God, and then.

One finger, just one, just a firm but light pressure. It came against my breast, it came onto me through my satiny smooth bra and touched my nipple. This finger moved around the nipple and began to make steady circles there, pressing and pressing.

And I was lost, hopelessly out of control. My back arched, my moan became a gasp, a deep whine and in my chest a sweet burning began, a darting tickling wicked little thing eating deliciously at my nipple and spreading behind it and deep into me. So deep I couldn't imagine where this might end. His other hand was at my other breast and a finger was pressing and twirling around me there too.

I made a sound something between throwing up and laughing and gurgling. I couldn't bear it any more. I let go the handles behind me and threw my arms around him and kissed him back as hard as I could.

And then it really began, and went on, and more, more of it, more of everything. His mouth hard against mine, both mouths open and his tongue deep in me, chasing my tongue and finding it and caressing it and taking my breath away.

And his fingers teasing me were joined by his thumbs and he pinched, gently at first and again and again and harder, pinching and rolling the points of my breasts. Harder still. I broke away from his mouth and cried out.

It began to happen fast, much faster. His hands went behind me, reached for my bra catch and fiddled there. He cursed. Every teen boys nightmare I imagine, the catch wouldn't open.

"Wait."

I reached up behind.

"No. Let me."

And putting his hands to my shoulders again he turned me around so I faced the wardrobe. In fact he didn't turn me, he spun me, he almost threw me around and slapped me hard up against the wooden doors. The ease and speed with which he manhandled me sent a gushing heat right through me. I was like a flimsy little doll, a rag doll in his hands. It wasn't just his strength but his eagerness that excited me. God, here was a boy so much stronger than me, so much bigger, so _dominant_ (mmm, yes) I was at his mercy. If he turned bad and wouldn't stop, even when I begged him to, he could do what he liked. And knowing that, yet knowing I trusted him completely made me that much more excited, sent another rush of heat pushing wetly within me and out of me. His hands were there and the bra came undone. He smoothed the straps down and off me. I pushed back away from the wardrobe and the garment fell. I also pressed back until I could feel him, his delicious hardness. And dirty hussy that I am, I wiggled my bottom against him.

He pressed hard to me and the groan he let out vibrated through me. I held myself away with my palms flat on the woodwork. His hands came around onto my stomach and up, slowly up.

"Uh, yes…"

"You want?" he teased, his breath hot on my ear, his teeth and tongue on the lobe. Sucking.

"Yes."

"What do you want? Tell me."

"Hold me. Cup me."

"Where?"

"Oh, you bastard. My breasts! Onegai!"

He did.

His hands came up onto me and squeezed. His fingers and thumbs rubbed across my stubby hard nipples and I moaned again. I turned my head and offered him my mouth. He kissed me, his tongue came back in and my moan was cut off with a gurgle and choke as he entered more deeply than before and his hands on me squeezed and pinched and released and came back squeezing and gripping again. That was what sent me, the rhythm he used, squeeze and release, pinch and release, regular and hard, he pinched very hard at one point and I cried out.

"Too much?"

"No…" and then, guiltily, embarrassed, "not hard enough…"

"Not enough?"

He sounded surprised.

"How much is enough?"

"Harder, onegai…"

His fingers came back and this time he pinched me mercifully, my stiff aching flesh burned. I writhed under his hands, under his tongue.

"H…Harder. Uh, hurt me…"

"Are you sure?"

I was beetroot now, both with arousal and embarrassment at being so open about what I wanted. What I _needed_.

"Onegai…"

I put my hands behind me and felt for him and through the loose material of his underwear he was easy to find, to grip. God, he felt huge. He grunted and put his mouth back on me. His hands became fists and squeezed me painfully hard, crushing my breasts and the pinching of his fingers and thumbs became white hot. Two wicked stabs of pain burst in me and I shouted.

"Aah!"

I let go of him and put my hands on his.

"God. Ow!"

"You said harder!"

"Fuck. That hurt!"

"It's what you wanted?"

I cupped his hands gently and moved them over my breasts.

"Hm, yes. Only… wow."

"Too much?"

"Not really. More like. I'm surprised at how nice…"

"You _like_ that? You shouted! I hurt you."

"I asked you to…Gomen…"

"Are you okay?"

"Gomen. Do I scare you?"

"No, but you sure as hell surprise me. I mean, wow! Yay! Kanahrin's a pervert!"

My face was like the sunrise.

"You like that though?"

"Hell, yes. I love kinky stuff. But pain, well, that's pretty damn advanced. Not sure how you got into it you naughty little girl."

"I've gone through a very odd phase this year. A lot of the time I surprise myself."

I moved my hands down, dragging his with them off my aching breasts, my poor sore nipples. Lower, down my ribcage, across the dome of my stomach. I stopped and let go.

"Onegai… touch me…"

I put my forearms to the warm wood and rested my forehead there. I kept my bottom pressed back into his beautiful hardness. His hands moved, his fists spread out and his palms caressed me, stroking my stomach. His fingers reached the elastic of my panties and ran over them, lower, down the outside. Where that part of me very low down domes out, where the woman part of me is shaped his fingers were there now and the gurgling noises began again in my throat.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The whole universe was concentrated in my groin and his fingers. His mouth came back on my neck, kissing, licking, nibbling at my ear but I hardly noticed.

The burning slickness in my panties was all I cared about now.

Touch me…

His fingertips were at the top of my divide. I pushed my bottom hard against him and opened my legs, shamelessly. Then wider. Then… he was there. His fingers reached the very base of me. I held my breath. They slid over where I curved and bulged. Then pushing against me, pressing… ughn… and then under. Dipping under and pressing up where I wanted to be suddenly wide open. I let out my held breath with a strangled mewling sound.

"Kanahrin… you're wet. You're… God you're dripping…"

"You did that."

"Wow, so wet…"

"That's you. That's why…uhnnn."

I bucked my hips as he increased the pressure, sliding his fingers back and forth, back and forth, sawing them against me.

Like a helpless thing, needing only satisfaction, needing only animal pleasure I opened my legs wider, wide apart and he pressed in, pushing the cotton between where I opened. I pushed my face against my forearms and moaning, bit my own flesh.

"Uhn…uhn…oh…"

He moved his fingers up a little and began to circle them over one particular spot, round and round, pressing a little each time.

I was gasping at each little press.

He took his other hand from my stomach and slid it round my flank to the small of my back. He caressed my warm skin there for a moment before beginning to dip down.

"Yes…"

These fingers didn't travel down the outside of the material, but inside. And down. And slowly… teasingly slowly, between.

"Oh, God, Asapin…Yes."

At the front his fingers swirled round and around, and I pressed down against them, I was moving rhythmically now, much the way I do when I'm alone. But this was so much better than all those times. With your own fingers it becomes predictable, you know just what is going to happen and when. But with someone else, my God, it's a thousand times better, it's the not knowing, not knowing exactly what they'll do and when and where and how firmly… Uh, I love that, that sense of not being in control, of being like a doll in someone else's hands. A submissive thing I suppose. And I love it. Dancing to his tune, his touch, him making me do this and not me.

And then behind, his fingers behind me, reaching down to a very, very rude place indeed. His fingers came down that cleft towards where I was searing hot. His fingers touched a place they shouldn't and pressed there a moment.

And that's where (God how I hate this _shitty_ world) it all went horribly, horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

My eyes snapped open and my mouth became a wide O of surprise and shock.

"Oh. No! No!"

I slammed my front against the wood and whipped my arms around to where his hand was touching me back there. I pulled at his hand and got it away and then a wave of revolting sensation came over me. I didn't feel like I was going to be sick but I felt awful. Cold and clammy and simply – ill.

His hand went away, his other, on my front moved too. Up around my waist.

"What? What is it?"

"Oh, no…"

"What?"

"Uhrrr…."

I was slipping down, collapsing, sliding against the woodwork to the floor.

"No, no, you fucker! You bastard! Aren't you ever fucking satisfied? Don't you ever, _ever_ stop fucking with my life?"

"Sakana – what?"

_**Of course not my pretty little Saka, it's why I'm here – to keep my eye on you.**_

I reached the tatamis and turned sitting down hard on the matting. I drew my knees up to my chest and gripped my arms around them.

"No, onegai, no, I don't deserve this. Why now? Why don't you just FUCK OFF OUT OF MY LIFE!"

"Sakana?"

_**Ha-ha, ha-ha, …and you were so enjoying your sick little perverted self so much! I caught you being **__**so**__** naughty! We can't have that can we? Oh, no.**_

"GO AWAY! FUCK OFF! FUCKING BASTARD!"

"SAKANA!"

_**Oh, no. I **__**like**__** doing this. Playing Saka Mind Fuck. Hm, I love it.**_

Arms came around me gripping, holding tight. My face was down pushed against my forearms and then his face was there very close against me, his mouth by my ear.

"What is it? Tell me!"

"DAMN YOU TO HELL! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME _ALONE!_"

_**Ooh, I say. And you're **__**so**__** pretty when you're angry.**_

Hands were on my shoulders shaking me. I smacked them away but they came back. This time they didn't shake me but came round me like steel and held tight. I was pulled forward and hugged hard against a warm firm chest. The hug went on and on.

"Be quiet. Who ever it is, he's not here. Shush. It's only me. I'm here. I'm here…"

I tried to lash out at the person I hated so much but the tight hug prevented me from moving much.

"Shush. Still now. It's okay…"

"IT'S FUCKING _NOT_ OKAY! I hate you! D'you hear me? I fucking hate your guts. Stay away from me!"

"He's not here Sakana, shush, it's me. Asapin… Asapin…"

"Asapin? Where?"

"Right here. Holding you. No one else. Nobody else."

"Asapin?"

"Hm, here."

"What did I say?"

"You told me to fuck off out of your life."

And then I realised I'd been shouting out loud instead of shouting in my head.

"Asapin? Oh, Hideaki. Gomen… Oh, gomen nasai… gomen nasai."

I unfolded my arms from my knees. He was kneeling facing me, his knees apart. I was sat crunched into a small ball between them. I opened my legs and lifted my feet over his thighs. He wiggled forward and held me. My arms went round him, my thighs gripped his waist. My face went against his neck, and, once again and boringly predictable, and enough to make any boy give up on me and walk away, I began to cry.

He didn't. He didn't give up. He didn't walk away.

And you know what?

It was then, pathetically huddled in his arms and crying yet again, and him staying and not getting up and walking away and holding me and shushing in my ear and stroking my hair… it might well have been right there and right then that I fell in love with him.

I mean properly in love.

It's awkward to admit it.

When you're in love you love just one person don't you? To the ends of the earth, to the exclusion of all others.

And yet I had such wonderful deep warm feelings for Asaba Hideaki that morning as dawn was creeping into that room that I wonder how that could be.

I loved Maho. Correction, I _love_ Maho. I love her to death. Hm…

So how can one person truly deeply love two people?

My personal take on that is that they can't. The very concept of romantic love means it can only ever be directed at one object. And I knew I loved Maho. Didn't I? So what the hell was this emotion I felt now as I huddled in this boys arms?

"Who is he?"

"Hm?"

"The person you're cursing. I assume it's a he."

I suppose I owed him an explanation. Having screwed up two perfectly beautiful evenings for him now. I stopped crying, wiped my eyes and sniffed back up some embarrassingly long dangly wet bits.

"My brother."

A moment's silence. His hands came up my back and through my hair, caressing, cuddling, squeezing. How I loved him. For a while I let his hugs and love hold me in but I knew what the next question would be.

"What did he do?"

A shudder went through me and his arms came tighter about me.

"You don't have to tell me."

"He raped me. I was eleven. Nearly twelve. In this house, when dad and sis were at work. In the bathroom. And…"

A single heaving sob came out of me. He pushed my head up and held it in his palms.

I'll never forget his face, so long as I live. Before he came down and kissed me and pressed to me his eyes had such aching tenderness in them. As though he himself had suffered and I should be comforting him.

"Shush if you want to," he said.

"No. And afterwards he did it. The _other_ way. Where you were touching me just now. It was that touch that made me remember, react."

I looked up at his face.

"My sweet darling Kanahrin, gomen, gomen."

"No need to apologise. You weren't to know."

"Does he ever come back? From his oil tankers?"

"Never. Not in almost four years."

"If he should, you phone me. Yes? Phone me the minute you see him or know he's coming. I'll come round. And so help me God, I'll kick the living shit out of him."

His face, there was something in his eyes, such vile bitter loathing, such wickedness, such pure evil hatred. I hope to God _I_ never cause such things to appear in his eyes.

I hugged him again, reached my head up and kissed him.

"Gomen."

"Why?"

"I ruined tonight. Gomen nasai, gomen nasai, gomen nasai, gom…"

"Stop it. Not your fault."

"Will you stay? Will you hold me?"

"Of course, if you want."

"Very much. Just, right now, don't go, I couldn't stand it. And. Asapin?"

"Hm?"

"I apologise, you must hate me. For leading you on so. And stopping. Again."

"It's okay. I really want to though. One day soon. I just hope you can… I mean I can… be right for you. So bad memories don't come back."

I gave a half laugh, half sob.

"We were doing so well. You kiss so beautifully. Arigato."

"You shocked me. The things you wanted me to do. I had no idea."

I went pink.

"Gomen. I'm a bit mixed up right now. I like to be... uh, taken charge of… Gomen, I sound perverted."

"One day, yes? I'll take charge of you."

He had a lovely fruity rude tone in his voice. Going a shocking deep red I hugged him hard.

"Arigato. I'd like that. And your fingers. You're very good. You make me feel so good."

"Do you want to carry on?" A mild hopeful tone.

"Gomen, I can't. I've lost the mood. I'd think of _him_ again."

"If we ever meet, he'll regret ever touching you…"

"There is one thing. It's such a pity."

"Go on."

"I never saw you."

"Ah, well."

"May I? See you?"

"What?"

"I want to see you. May I?"

He uncurled from me a little awkwardly and squatted. Then reaching for my arms he stood up, lifting me with him, pulling me to my feet as though I weighed nothing. He held my hands and looked at my chest.

"You're very pretty. Beautiful, a beautiful shape."

I blushed and tried to cover myself. He was lying, I knew. I'm very plain, very dumpy still. But every girl loves to be told she's beautiful, even when she knows she's not.

"Don't. I mean it. Don't be ashamed, you're lovely. Don't hide yourself."

I stared at the floor, still blushing.

"Arigato."

"Come."

He led me by the hand to the futon. He stopped and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, hesitated.

"Shall I? Or do you want to?" he grinned.

"Can I? I've never..."

"You'll be shocked, the final curtain is coming up on the incomparable beauty of Asaba the Huge…"

"Don't. You big clown. Now's not the time."

"Just trying to lighten the mood."

"I might laugh, that'll lighten it."

"I don't think so."

"What? That I'll laugh, or that it'll lighten it?"

He stood, quite relaxed about it all which helped a lot. I knelt in front of him. I wanted to kneel. I wanted, if you really must know, to get a good look. I reached for him and pulled the thin boxers down. I dragged his clothing down and he stepped out of it, kicked it away.

I knelt, hands on my knees.

He was right. I didn't laugh. I silently swore at my brother again. So close and yet so far.

He was, indeed, beautiful. As beautiful as I'd imagined. I just hated myself and my sicko brother for not letting me enjoy this. What struck me was how little hair he had, very light hair on his stomach and almost none on his legs, very fair and fine. And _there _just a small amount, again quite fine. But black, not the colour of the hair on his head, which convinced me that he colours it. He had lost most of his hardness but some remained. He was a tall boy and I thought he was big there although I had nothing to compare it to.

"Beautiful," I said, my voice a whisper, "You're so lovely. One day, I want to touch. One day, I want to kiss you there."

"Stand up."

I did so.

"My turn," he said, matter of factly.

"Uh."

"Oh, come on. Fair's fair."

"Um, I'm a little embarrassed."

"What about for heaven's sake? After what we've done and you've said tonight?"

"My wetness. I'm so incredibly sticky. It feels… indecent."

"I think it's lovely. You know what I'm going to do when you're able to?"

I stared at him. Something outrageously rude I didn't doubt.

He looked at me quite calmly, straight in the eye.

"When I can, one day soon, I hope, when you'll let me. I want to drink you."

My heart beat faster. What he said was both so rude yet so beautiful, such a lovely thing to offer.

I covered my chest and looked down at the futon.

"Don't! Embarrassing me!"

"I mean it, one day, I want to touch you there with my mouth. And make you moan. Make you cry out."

He stood and held me in his arms, his mouth was by my ear.

"Make you beg me to stop…"

I hugged him back. Damn he was good at this. I could almost carry on. But no, the moment had passed and I was suddenly tired.

"Wait there."

He let go of me and slid back down to his knees. As he went he deftly slipped his fingers into the elastic and pulled my last covering down. I squeaked and tried to grip it with my knees (which was pointless really when you think about it – trapping my panties between my knees was going to help not one jot) but he yanked harder and they fell to my ankles.

He looked. I covered my chest with my pressed together elbows and my face with my hands.

"I'm not usually like this," he said, matter of factly, "Asaba the Wonderful is always right in his estimations of women. But you, you're different. You've had me fooled three times now. First I thought seeing you blush was the best. But that wasn't right. Then seeing you dance was better, best even. But that wasn't it either. So I thought seeing you in your cute undies was best of all. But no, I'm going to admit something I've never admitted before to anyone. I was wr… I was wro… Sorry, It's hard to do. I was wr… . Wro… Asaba Hideaki was wr… uh, incorrect when he said those things.

"This," he pointed, "is best. This is you at your most lovely, your most enchanting. Most pretty. The guy – hm – or girl, who lives with you is going to be a very lucky person. Because they'll see you wandering about the house with nothing on."

He very gently put a finger there, just on the flat area above my divide. Well above all the alarm buttons and emergency warning signs.

"So pretty," he said quietly, as though talking to a kitten, "you have so little hair as well. Just a thin vertical bar, so soft, so downy."

He came forward and placed a quick kiss on my pubes. I shuddered, _that_ was unexpected.

He knelt back.

"Come to bed with me," he said.

I thought that was a very good idea.

"Wait. Need bathroom."

I went along the hall and used the toilet then went into the bathroom and washed myself. I was amazed, there was stickiness even part way down my legs. Amazing. Never seen anything like it. I went into the kitchen and drank my glass of water, refilled it and took it back to bed.

Outside my room I switched off the hallway light but daylight was fully here now. I went in, closing the shouji again. It was a little darker in here than before, but not much. I glanced at him. He was on the futon, a sheet up to his hips. His head was propped up on one elbow and he watched me. I think he enjoys it and I suspect I'm not the first nude girl he's sat and enjoyed seeing walk around him.

I went to the shuttered window and glanced out through the blind. Dawn was here and the birds were singing.

"It must be gone five," I said

"Nearly six, in fact," he supplied

"My bedtime then."

I walked to the futon, put down my glass. And because I could, because I wanted to both tease and please, I stretched. Legs apart, I raised my arms right up wide and had a lovely long grrrrrr…oaning stretch.

"Hm, that reminds me," he observed, "the neighbours cat does that. Just before he licks his arse."

I kicked him as I got in.

"Ow."

"Oops, gomen."

I lay next to him. It was warm, I didn't want anything covering me.

"Hug me," I ordered him.

"Yes, ma'am. Asaba Snuggles Inc at your service."

"Good. Now shut up and do your job."

He lay on his side facing me, one arm around me. His other under my neck. I was on my side, a leg over him, an arm ditto and my head against his chest. As a pillow he wasn't that soft and there was some noisy bumping thing inside that made it hard to sleep. What I wanted was a comforter. I reached down and found just what I needed between his legs. Gripping him and amazed at how hot he was and still how firm, and feeling his kisses in my hair, I let sleep slowly come.

"It's funny isn't it?" he said after a while, "How we're like this. We're not lovers. We're not bee-eff and gee-eff. I sometimes wonder why we do this."

I didn't look up. I didn't want to do anything but let these lovely smoky warm tendrils of sleep curl about me. And keep my face and my lips pressed against the cosy warm toffee of his breast.

"That doesn't sound like something that would bother you, o, man who's loved countless women."

As I spoke my lips pressed against his skin. This was nice, kissing him while talking.

"I was thinking more about what _you_ thought of it."

"Have we talked about this before? I'm sure we have. Didn't this come under furniture and music shops or something?"

"It might have. Then again I might be just doing this so you'll talk. I like to hear you talk."

"It is funny. It's not how I imagined things at all, not once did I ever think I'd be doing this and not be utterly head over heels in love."

"You say the nicest things."

"You can't joke with me. I think we both know where we stand. But it's like… It's like we're married or something. Like we've done this hundreds of times and the love has gone." I paused and decided I didn't like that at all, "No, gomen, that's not it at all."

"Why not?"

"Because… Because it was so wonderful. Even though I screwed it up again, what you did was lovely. I can't imagine being married for twenty years and things ever feeling that good."

"That's very nice of you. You know how to make a boy feel good."

"I'm just being honest. I'm looking forward to the day I can finally shake off this shade that haunts me. When that bastard finally shuts up, you won't be able to keep my hands off you."

"Do you hear him then?"

"Oh, yes. Voices in my head. You're in bed with a certifiable nutcase you know."

"You're the most exciting insane person I've met."

I smiled against my muscular toffee pillow.

"But I suppose we're both caught in a dream aren't we? Both looking for something. Looking around not finding it. And while we're hunting high and low we've bumped into each other. For a time we're hanging onto each other. Is that a good explanation?"

"Yes. I think it is. Very good."

"But…"

"What?"

"One day I'll find what I'm looking for, or you will, and we'll stop doing this."

"Yes, that's true."

"And drift apart."

"Maybe. That would be sad."

"Would it? You care about me?"

He didn't answer with words. Instead his answer came with his arms tighter about me hugging me. One of then drifted down my back to the narrow part of me and then onto my bottom. He patted my bottom.

"I care about you, you know," I continued, "You've done a lot for me. Been very kind. Helped me in all sorts of ways."

"When you go, we'll have one last mad time together, hm?"

"Yeah. Mad as hatters."

We lay quietly for a time.

"How many girls have there been?" I asked.

"Oh, hundreds…" even though his voice was calm and sleepy there was still that silly edge in it, that lover-boy showmanship.

"Don't. I want to know."

"You don't ask such questions. It's like asking a grown woman how old she is."

"No it's not! And I want to know. Really I do."

"Why?"

That one stumped me. The answer wasn't nice. Personal image I guess. Wanting to know how I might compare to The Others. Was I cuter? Sexier? Better at Things? And so on.

"Just curious."

What a cop-out.

"There have been a few. Several. A modest number. I'm not going to go into details."

"And you never loved any of them?"

"No."

"Did any of them love you?"

He didn't answer for a very long time. I was beginning to think he'd dozed off.

"Yes."

"Gomen. I'm prying."

"It's alright. She's long gone now."

"Gomen."

"Don't be. I'm not."

"When did you first do it? How old were you?"

"My word, you are full of questions tonight."

"Gomen. It's just that it's all new to me. I've had no one to talk to about this before."

"Twelve. I was twelve the first time."

"What?" I rolled up onto my front, raised myself on my elbows.

"But that wasn't the real thing. She used her hand on me and I used my fingers on her. We didn't undress. She was fourteen. She led me on."

"Wow."

"I was thirteen when I did it properly. I told you, I've always hung out with girls. Sometimes older ones. Some of them were willing. It happens. I think that was a reaction to my father as well. I think lots of what we do, how we behave is driven by events within our families."

_You can say that again._

"And to think that when I first knew you I thought you might be gay."

"I understand there's more than a few boys in school who wish I was."

"Really? Ew…"

"That bothers you? When you are like you are?"

"Yes. It does. I think girls with girls is fine. Of course."

"Of course," he interrupted, smiling, "Me too."

"But boys with boys is somehow all yucky. I can't explain it."

He chuckled.

"Wait."

I lay back down on him, snuggled close, got comfortable.

"Do that again."

"What?"

"Laugh."

He did a rumbling false laugh. The sound was all around me, grumbling and vibrating inside the flesh I was cuddling. It was nice, very comforting. One day, I promised myself, I'll have my head pressed to Maho and she'll laugh and I'll feel her pleasure rumbling under my lips. Seeing her laugh was one of my main goals in life. Having her naked and under me and dozing off and giggling was my idea of heaven.

I thought of her.

I felt a little sad.

Was I betraying her? My love for her?

Yes, there was a little guilt there but I told myself again that what this was with Asapin was just some kind of crazy therapy I needed, a course of medication to fix my busted mind.

With Maho it would be different, so beautifully heavenly different. That would be love.

If I could ever get it to happen.

And then another thought came to me. It bumped up quite suddenly and quite surprised me that I hadn't considered it before.

Tonight I had been brought to almost screaming point by a boy. By his kisses and his fingers. Suddenly I realised I wasn't a lesbian, not completely. How could I be when he'd made me feel like that? I was both ways. That weird word that always sounds so dirty. Bisexual. I had my own nasty image in my head when I thought of that word. I didn't think of a person who loved boys and girls I thought of two boys with one girl, one going in the right way and one going in the other… My, how twisted my head is. You know who I blame.

But me being like that I'd never thought about it before.

But then, if every time I was with a boy I puked up or had a sudden fright or violent mood swings, batting for both teams wasn't much help was it? Nothing would ever come of it.

And if finding a girl who liked me was as hard as I'd struggled with Maho, then this wasn't going to be easy. I thought Tsubaki might jump into bed with me. Or she might not. I couldn't work her out.

But I didn't want girls who jumped into bed then jumped out again.

I wanted love. And I wanted it from _her_.

Damn.

"It's late," he said.

"Hm, time to sleep."

"It's morning. I could get up and cook you breakfast."

"No, want this. Want snuggle," and I pressed and wiggled against him.

"Hm, you might be able to convince me. Breakfast this afternoon then?"

"If you're cooking? Yep, sounds good."

"Okay. Night."

"Hm, night."

I kissed his skin one last time and reached again for my comforter. My last thoughts were that as chests go, I was sure Maho's would make a _much_ softer pillow.

- - - oOo - - -

_18 – 20 June 2007 _

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, please see my forum._

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Two, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	43. A Day At The Seaside

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Three – A Day At The Seaside**

"_When you're in a town that's covered with smoke you forget that there's a world outside. Nothing amazing happens here. And so we get used to a world where everything is ordinary. Every day spent here is like a whole lifetime of dying slowly."_

- Haruko, FLCL, Ep.6

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

Monday came around.

I didn't phone Maho.

I went swimming.

Tuesday.

I actually had my phone in my hand, my thumb hovering over the memory button for her number.

I went and finished my homework (what I could do of it, some of it still refused to roll over and lie down).

Wednesday.

Sunbathing in the garden.

And fantasizing about a smoky voiced, rainbow-haired girl rubbing suntan oil on me.

Damn.

Thursday.

_Why can't I drag out from inside me the guts to talk to you?_

_And why don't __you__ call me?_

Out of sheer frustration I phoned Inoue and we met in town and had some lunch and watched a movie. She seemed in good spirits, she was off the next Saturday with her family to holiday up in Hokkaido for two weeks.

One funny co-incidence - she asked me when my birthday was and when I told her it was the day she was flying off, she seemed quite upset. She said she'd bring me back a gift.

When we said good bye she gave me a hug.

I'm pretty sure she has a crush on me.

It's funny isn't it?

If I wasn't fixated on another girl that I can't have, I'd probably ask her out and try to bring the subject round to, you know, _that_.

But my circumstances have conspired against me.

Friday.

Lying in the sun again in the garden.

The tan was getting pretty good now.

My phone lay near me, looking at me the way it does, calling me names, among which 'spineless coward' and 'loser' were often repeated.

I turned my head and ignored it.

It rang.

I jumped out of my skin.

It was Yukino.

Was I busy tomorrow?

No, I wasn't.

Would you want to come out for the day with the girls, she'd asked. We're going swimming and then the usual, some karaoke, some coffee bar trashing, perhaps dinner at the end of the day.

Swimming? I'd asked.

Yeah, she'd said.

Is Maho going? I'd asked.

Uh-huh, she'd replied. I could hear her smiling.

I had nothing better to do and my spine was no tougher after five days of stress and worry not calling her. She'd be there. Maybe I'd have a moment alone with her like before. Maybe Tsubasa would have another family crisis and we could all sleep together again…

And she'd be in a swimsuit.

Maho in a swimsuit…

I turned off the fantasy and trying not to sound too desperate, said yes, I'd go.

Good, meet us at Kawasaki station at ten, she'd said.

I had nothing better to do for my birthday anyway except swim, sunbathe, fret about _her_, fret about _him_ and feel sorry for myself. But not necessarily in that order.

So I went out that afternoon and bought myself a new costume. I didn't want to wear the biological warfare suit nor did I want to wear either of the obscene bikinis Asapin had bought. They were okay if I was with him but for a swim with the girls I wanted something less pornographic, thank you very much. A bikini with a red NO ENTRY sign on my bottom would give Tsubaki a field day. I'd never be able to look her in the eye again.

I chose a nice black one. It had a lower front and back than my sports suit and the legs were cut rather higher than I'd usually wear (which meant more bum cheek was on show) but it had a nice slimming effect on me so I went for it.

I wore my yellow sundress and some flip flops. It was going to be another hot day.

I got there at five to ten and walked down off the platform to street level. Yukino was waiting at the bottom of the steps in the shade of the covered walkway. I raised a hand in greeting.

I stepped off the bottom step.

"Ohi!" I said

"YAY!" she shouted, leaping in the air as though gas-propelled.

I had about two tenths of a second during which a big shocked manga HUH? expression floated above my head before my world went mental.

I was suddenly in the middle of a whirlwind, a storm of crazies. People jumped out at me from just around the corner of the walkway. There was a lot of yelling and screaming (one of the loudest ones was mine) and several party poppers went off, ribbons of colour flew.

People danced, people hugged me, I spat out paper streamers. Someone thrust a stick in my hand that had three balloons tied to the end and a silly hat (far too big) was pushed onto my head.

I stood there, looking a complete fool, unable to comprehend this insanity.

The noise subsided; a circle of beaming laughing people enclosed me. It was the whole crowd of them, Arima and Asapin included.

"SURPRISE!" they shouted, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Asapin and Arima came forward, one on each side of me. They wrested my sports bag from me and each put an arm behind my shoulders and another under my knees and lifted me, struggling and yelling, feet kicking, out onto the street.

"Baka! Put me down! Everything is showing!"

The skirt of the dress wasn't _that_ long.

Three middle school boys carrying skateboards were passing.

"Hey guys, wanna see some panties?" Asapin called at them and swung my legs in their direction.

"Agh! You sex maniac! Put me down!"

"You can have a feel if you like. Only five hundred Yen."

The three boys gawped at us, their eyes bugging out.

"Put me down right now, or you're dead! Arima! Tell him!"

They did so but hugged me, their faces either side of mine.

"Smile!" Tsubaki said and she pointed a camera at us.

"No! Don't you dare!"

I struggled and stupidly waved my hands at her but the two boys held my arms down and cuddled up close, preventing any escape. A pair of boy-lips pressed either side of my face. The camera clicked.

"You didn't? Did you? While they were carrying me?"

Tsubaki's evil grin confirmed the worst.

"Camera's got a great auto zoom feature too. I'll send them to the swim team captain for September's newsletter."

"You're nasty!"

"Come on Sakana!" Yukino laughed, "If you don't damn well cheer up, I'll hug them!"

"That must practically be heaven!" Tsubaki called out, "so you could at least pretend you're enjoying it."

The camera clicked several times. I felt like a total jerk and must have looked far worse.

"You absolute bastards!" I cursed them all when they finally let me go, "you scared the daylights out of me too! Don't _do_ that!"

"We won't then," Maho was there, standing at the back, "until next year. Oh, by the way," she lifted one eyebrow, "nice underwear."

I went pink, my usual colour these days.

"Alright my cuties, my delicious harem," said Asapin

"Pay attention, Arima, he's talking to you," Tsubaki said.

Arima scowled.

"…let us go forth! I have in mind the perfect place. To the train!" and he made a dramatic battle pose, pointing his arm as though brandishing a sword.

"To the train!" sang Tsubaki and Yukino, arms round each other and pointing in different directions.

"Train," muttered Tsubasa, looking hungry.

We piled onto a southbound train, towards Yokohama. Filling half a carriage with bags, boards, guitars and noise. A couple of shocked looking young girls got off and went to another carriage.

"To Yokohama!" Asapin, Tsubaki and Yukino sang, arms pointing.

"Alright!" I shouted, "Yokohama!"

"Yay! Ryusaki's partying!"

Someone grabbed my hands and whirled me around. The train was too narrow and we fell over some seats. My hat went flying and my legs stuck up in the air. The fan service was enjoyed by all.

More passengers retreated to the far end of the carriage.

"Oh, no. Get off me!"

Asapin disentangled himself.

"You'll get us thrown off!" said Rika, pleadingly.

"You pervert! Don't put your hand there!"

I sat up, straightening my clothing.

"I'll let you put your hand on mine if you want," Asapin offered, smiling slimily at me.

"Creep!"

"Beeeeeeeeer!" he sang, reaching into his huge rucksack and cracking open a can.

"You didn't bring beer did you?" Arima growled at him.

"Of course! Party! There's white wine in the cool box, too. Sakana, have a beer."

Arima smacked a palm to his forehead and sat down.

"She's not allowed to drink. Nor are you."

"Meh. So bite me."

"Uh, well…" I was undecided.

"Go on, it's your birthday."

"Just a mouthful then."

"Yeah! That's my girl!"

He thrust a can into my hands and cracked one open for himself.

"I'm not responsible for you Hideaki. If you get drunk I'm not taking you home," Arima warned him.

"Anyone else?"

"Hm, I'll join you," Maho said relieving Asapin of the second beer.

He dug out a third can.

"And if you get these girls drunk I'm _definitely_ not responsible."

"I'm gonna get them all drunk and all _nekked_ and have a raunchy beach party! Ooh, yeah, sex and sun and my gorgeous tanned pecs here we come!"

"Pervert."

"We're gonna have one hell of a nipple count!"

"Now do you understand why I wouldn't let him take you to the pool?" Arima said to Yukino, crossly.

The train went through Yokohama still heading south.

"Where the heck are we going?" I asked, half my beer gone and my empty stomach telling me in no uncertain terms where it was.

Asapin, Yukino and Tsubaki stood up on cue and linked arms, like a chorus line.

"Kamakura!" they screamed, all pointing ahead of them like Power Rangers or something.

"Kamakura or bust!" I added, taking another drink and raising my can.

"Bust," muttered Tsubasa, looking hungry.

Then, from me: "Hey. Guitars. Who plays the guitar?"

"Moi, au naturel," Asapin drooled, in a cheesy French accent, stroking his palm up his stomach and chest, although quite what caressing himself there has to do with playing a guitar I don't know.

"I never knew."

"Mai, oui, I am a man of many faces. My mysteries and talents know no bounds."

"You've a talent for talking total crap that's for sure," Maho muttered from the corner.

"The other one's mine. I play a little as well," Rika said, meekly.

"Really? Wow, I'd love to be able to play a musical instrument," I was genuinely impressed.

"You can play mine. I'll teach you," that silky smooth voice stroked me from just behind my ear, "_And_ my guitar…"

I turned and went red. Again.

"You're nasty. You sex fiend," Arima was good at pigeon-holing Asapin.

Whilst we'd been messing about my hat had come off. Someone plopped it back on my head. I lifted it off again and looked at it. It was a silly cheap plastic top hat covered in purple glitter. On the front was a label with "Sweet Sixteen" written in English. I'm not sure I understood that. In Japanese it would read "_Ko-ba-shii Ni-ha-chi" _which is more or less meaningless so I suppose it was a joke, an Americanism I guess. It sounded cute though and was a nice thought.

On the crown of it someone had hand written in marker pen the symbols of Sarutahiko-no-kami the spirit that protects travellers.

"Who's to blame for this?"

"Me, me, me," Tsubaki shouted, "I saw it and thought of you. Well, not really but they were all out of swimming caps."

I looked at her, "Baka."

"I added the Sarutahiko-no-kami characters," Yukino said, "I thought with the combination of near-nudity, beer and Asapin near you, you'd need it."

_Sometimes, Yukino, in jest, the truth is often spoken._

"I think we all need it don't we? We're all on a journey?"

The train rattled and shook and leaned alarmingly as it changed tracks.

"We might not get there at this rate," Maho, looking out the window, observed dryly.

I had been trying to be clever and philosophical but I was clearly wasted on these plebeians.

"So, off to the beach then?"

"Beach," muttered Tsubasa, looking hungry.

I hate these guys.

I love them too.

But I hate them as well.

- - - oOo - - -

It was a fantastic day. The weather, too: hot and sunny. We walked along the beach to the far west end where there were fewer people and sand dunes behind the main beach. We lay down picnic blankets and set up sun shades. Everyone struggled behind towels to get changed without anything showing. Asapin offered to hold Arima's towel and got a black look. He then offered to hold Yukino's and got an ever blacker look and very nearly a punch on the jaw.

We girls got changed in threes, two each side holding up towels for the third one who changed.

Asapin hovered around pervertedly, somehow he'd got hold of Tsubaki's camera.

All you need to know is that I wasn't in Maho's group. Tsubaki claimed who I think are the two prettiest in our gang – her and Tsubasa. That did mean I was holding a towel for Rika who's the other one I think is lovely looking but I played it straight and averted my eyes.

Well, mostly. Gosh, she's gorgeous. She has got to be a C cup. And at sixteen. How lucky is that?

Yukino was terrible though and looked at both me and Rika.

"Huh, it's not fair. I'm still so flat chested. Both of you have lovely breasts."

"Don't look!" I yelped covering myself with my hands, "What's the matter with you?"

"I feel really left behind. You two and Maho - you're all getting really shapely. I'm not growing at all."

"You will, I'm sure. I've grown a lot since the beginning of the year."

"Show me then."

"No way!"

It's funny how you can be so eager to see a girl with nothing on some days – or show yourself - and then in other situations you come over all shy and silly. Yukino I think has some sort of complex about her breasts, she mentioned it another time during the second semester. I'll tell you about that later. It was really funny.

We all ran down to the water and messed about in the sea.

"I just realised," Rika chirped up, "Your given name is fish. Your family name means a flow around a headland a bit like a tide. And you're a good swimmer, it suits you."

Asapin was a little further out, the water up to his waist.

"You can come here pretty fishy and flow around my headland if you like."

My loud raspberry was answer enough. Someone else threw a fistful of seaweed at him. It landed wetly on his shoulder. He ignored it.

"You girls have no sense of adventure."

Asaba had brought his two boards with him and he and I went out and did some surfing.

We waded back to shore.

"Hey, Sakana, when did you learn to surf?" Maho called to me.

Shit.

"Uh, oh, it comes natural I guess."

Lame. That sounded so lame.

"One more time, Sakana?" Asapin suggested and, with his faced turned away from her, he winked at me.

We waded out well beyond earshot and waited for a wave.

"I won't say anything. If you'd rather play it like we've not gone out with each other. I don't mind."

I looked at him.

"Arigato. I have to don't I? So, gomen."

"You go for it, if you get the opportunity."

He nodded in Maho's direction.

"I doubt anything'll happen today, being my birthday everyone'll be watching me. So I won't get a chance. But, uh, appreciate it, for keeping quiet, I owe you one."

"I know you do." He smiled in a really sinister way, "If it was another boy it would be a different matter. I'd just kill him," he stood up and rolled his eyes in that way he does and struck a raunchy pose, "But as it's another luscious cutie your secret is safe with me my salty little starfish… As long as…" his voice became all breathy and conspiratorial, "I can watch…"

"You're a damn freak!"

Fuming I picked up my board and swung it at him. He laughed and turned his back which was a stupid thing to do because the fibreglass board whacked him right across his shoulders. He went flying, although I think the dive and scream of agony were mostly for show.

He leapt up out of the water.

"Help. Boy beater! I'm being raped!"

"Get off me, weirdo!"

He dived on me and dragged me down. I yelped, he whined.

"Oooh, help me, help me! Vicious big breasted boy molester. I'm being sexually interfered with!"

_Big breasted? Me?_

"Asapin!" Yukino shouted from the sand.

"What?"

"Arima wants his back oiling!"

"Oh, yeah! I'm right on it!"

He dived away from me and shouted over his shoulder.

"You can molest me another time you cute creature – right now duty calls!"

"Gay boy!" I yelled.

"Get in the queue!" came back over his shoulder.

I watched him go.

The guy was odd. Just plain good old fashioned strange.

I surfed in, dragging his board with me. And laughing at him. I could see why the girls liked him, he was damn funny, very entertaining to have around.

- - - oOo - - -

After we'd swum and messed about and played with the beach ball a while we stopped to eat. Asapin pulled out a bottle of white wine but I declined. I had bad memories of alcohol. He polished off most of it, Maho and Tsubaki helping him out. He wanted to give Tsubasa a large glass but Arima stopped him.

"I guess Aya didn't make it after all," Yukino said.

"Yeah, she's…" began Tsubaki.

"…writing a draft," Rika continued, "I think she's sleeping right now."

"Her days and nights are flipped right now," Tsubaki went on, "She says she gets dizzy when she sees the sun. She's shut herself away from her family and I think she's even neglecting her schoolwork. It's terrible. Writing is a cursed occupation. It's summer and her skin's still pale blue."

"Aya," muttered Tsubasa, looking hungry.

Yukino looked awed. I didn't get it at all. I mean writing – that's like… well, like doing school work for pleasure. Asapin was perverted but Aya was just plain insane.

After lunch – or rather after Tsubasa destroyed lunch single handedly and we sat drinking and watching in amused silence - things mellowed a little. Tsubasa collapsed and went to sleep and we girls piled sand on her but instead of just a big mound, our art director Rika took charge and from the wet sand got us to sculpt a voluptuous female form around her. We gave her huge child-bearing hips and mountainous breasts, big as footballs. Asapin found a scallop shell that was perfectly shaped to represent a fan of pubic hair and Tsubaki picked up a couple of little dead starfish that worked as nipple covers.

Tsubaki took her picture, then we woke her up and while she complained, took more.

Asaba was lying on his front, he looked around.

"Soichiro, rub lotion on me."

"No way."

Yukino pushed herself up on her elbows too.

"Rub lotion on me."

"No."

_He _was a strange guy too. He must be just very shy I think, he's so quiet around others, sure he'll have a bit of fun with Asapin and I've seen him laughing with Yukino a few times (not many though) but when there's other girls around or even a hint of anything sexy gets mentioned, he completely clams up.

I found myself sitting there wondering how far he and Yukino had gone in their relationship. You know, had they? Or hadn't they? It had been four months now, surely they had? I could imagine her wanting to do it, she had quite a playful side to her, a fun side, adventurous. But him? No way, he seemed almost nerdy sometimes, very shy.

I knew their love was intense. I'd seen it. They were just such an odd match. Apart from their powerful intellects and strong wills I could see almost nothing else they had in common. And Yukino was not a person to talk about him either. There must be lots private going on. I made a mental note to ask her sometime.

I found myself looking at Maho. She was, after Tsubasa, still the quietest of us. While we'd played with the beach ball she'd gone in for a swim on her own and then come out and laid in the shade watching us mess about. She was the one who joined in least with the games, the jokes and the chatter.

A dark thought bubbled up about how far she'd gone in her relationship with _him_, but I quickly suppressed it. I didn't want to spoil the day by thinking about _that_.

She was wearing a turquoise blue bikini. It was funny, of all of us she was the one I'd least expect to wear a two-piece. It had one of those cute skirts over the bottom half which was otherwise just sensible briefs. But when it was wet the light skirt went transparent.

Yeah, you guessed it. I looked. More than was wise.

I didn't catch anyone catching me looking but I wouldn't be surprised if they did.

I tore my eyes away.

"Hey, Sakana, aren't you going to carry this around? I'm sure everyone wants to see it?"

Tsubaki gave me my stick with the three balloons on it. Grudgingly I stood up. She took my photo.

"Come on everyone, photo time!"

Everyone gathered round. It was like a wedding shoot. Even Rika started getting involved, posing people and placing them for compositional balance. We did a couple of silly group shots, you know people holding up fingers as bunny ears behind others that sort of rubbish, everyone grinning and victory saluting. Then the girls stepped away and Arima and Asapin came on either side of me and posed. Or rather Asapin posed, arms draped over me, tongue in my ear (_don't _I hissed at him) while Arima stood there stiff as a board, a store window mannequin.

Then it was an all girls shot which Asapin took so Tsubaki could be in it. He had us all in stitches.

"Arms round each other! Now, grab her breasts someone! Maho you sultry goddess, you've got far too much on, can we lose that bikini? Tsubaki, kiss her! No, no, do it properly, more tongues! Ow! Shit!"

Arima had whacked the side of his head.

"Enough, sicko!"

Then he took one of Tsubasa, Tsubaki and Rika and the mood changed a little. Everyone missed Aya. I thought of her asleep collapsed at her writing desk, food scraps on the floor around her, empty coffee cups, an image of a struggling writer in a Bohemian setting. Outside her tiny attic room the nightlife of Napoleonic Vienna went glitteringly on its way while the brilliant but impoverished girl author starved in her garret…

"And now the interlopers!"

Maho, Yukino and I posed for a shot.

"Right, Yukino, go join Arima a moment."

Maho and I were alone. Her, me and that stupid balloon stick.

"Put your arms round each other. Look like you're friends!"

We did. Her arm was warm. Her hip touched mine. My mind began to do its usual thing, thoughts, fantasies. The camera clicked.

"You do realise how rude those balloons look don't you?" she said.

"No? What?"

She reached for the stick and facing me, held it up. There were two round ones and one long sausage one in the middle. The round ones were pink, the sausage was purple. I saw it at once.

"Oh, my God."

"And you've been carrying it around all day you… ba-ka," she looked at me as though with pity. Poor little dim girl.

"Asapin! Is this your idea?"

"Ah, you finally saw the resemblance. It is of course modelled on my own impressive physique… I can give you a tour around the real thing later if you wish…"

"Asapin!"

Arima shouted from stage right.

"Hurry up and die you disgusting animal. We all have normal lives we want to lead."

"No, no, wait!" Tsubaki came over, "Maho, give me that! Asapin, come here."

Tsubaki gave him the balloons, stuffing the stick through his legs.

"Hold them there."

She knelt in front of him and arranged them artfully.

"No, make it stick up more," Maho suggested, standing to one side, arms folded coolly.

"Right, Sakana, hug him."

Tsubaki ran back taking the camera. She took a couple of shots.

"Put one hand on it Sakana, underneath. Lift the end up! That's it!"

"Finally," Asapin slurpily whispered in my ear, "You get to do what I've been thinking about all week."

I spluttered and pulled away from him. But I was laughing too.

"Now kneel. And hold onto it! Yay! Great! Both hands! Brilliant!"

Asapin struck a suitable pose, head thrown back a look of lust on his face.

"Oh my God, hurry up Tsubaki, I can't last much longer!" he moaned

I saw Arima put his hands over Yukino's eyes. His face was bright red.

"No, stop it. I want to look," she said.

"Maho, help me," I called, "it's too big for me."

She came and knelt too and we both held it, caressing the outrageous shape.

The camera clicked.

"Lick it both of you!"

We did. I saw Maho looking at me. She wore the most wonderful mischievous grin.

"Do you come here often?" she asked and I choked and howled in laughter.

BANG!

"Shit!"

Asapin fell backwards.

I collapsed on my hands and knees, ears ringing. Maho, screaming with laughter fell on me, we rolled over helpless.

"Shit! Shit! Ow! Fuck!"

Asapin danced around us, two round pink balloons and nothing else gripped between his legs.

"Watch those teeth!" he yelled.

"Ha-ha, ha, ha, ha-ha, heh, heeee… excellent!"

Tsubaki was bent over, hands on knees, almost crying. I collapsed on my back, Maho lay across me, both of us screaming with laughter.

"Look at me! Look what you've done!"

"Only one thing for it now, eunuch-boy. Join a Turkish brothel!"

The laughter continued. Even Rika and Yukino were laughing. I've no idea what Arima was doing. Writing letters of complaint to the government I expect. In my mind I saw Tsubasa, head deep in Asapin's cool box, munching determinedly. But maybe not, maybe she was laughing too. Or maybe…

"_Eunuch," muttered Tsubasa, looking hungry._

I was in no fit state to see.

The laughter tailed off. I sat up.

"Oh."

I picked a long dangly piece of purple rubber from between my teeth.

Maho pointed at me.

"Circumcision by teeth. Impressive!"

And that set us all off again.

I have never laughed so much in my life. Asapin stamped on his huge inflatable testicles and they burst while we howled more.

"Useless bloody things! What good is it having balls that big and nothing between them! Kanahrin, you'll be hearing from my lawyers!"

"Arima's father is a doctor, I'll get you a first consultation free," Yukino offered.

"Oh, yeah, they can do amazing things with reconstructive surgery these days," Tsubaki continued.

"I'm upset now," I said in a loud theatrical manner, "you guys have completely destroyed my birthday cock and balls!"

There was total silence.

Everyone gaped at me.

Then.

"_Sakana!_" Yukino gasped.

"_What_ did you say?" Maho stared at me, obviously impressed.

"Well, Sakana reveals her true colours," Tsubaki said, "Nice one. You're human after all."

I was blushing furiously.

"Gomen, gomen…"

Asapin was beside me, down on one knee, practically proposing marriage.

"Fear not, my delicious cutie, I will eagerly honour you by arranging a replacement set of my very own…"

Various eyes rolled in various heads, people groaned. Someone near the lunch box threw half a bread roll at him. It bounced off his chest.

Tsubaki walked up to him and pushed him. Frozen into his pose he fell sideways and lay there rigid.

"_Kanahrin?_" said Maho, looking at me, "Since when did you allow perverts to call you pet names?"

"Ah, you know him, he's got a daft name for everyone."

"Not me he hasn't. Thank God. Are you seeing him?"

"Wow, Inspector Izawa of Interpol is on the case. It's just a pet name, I don't think it means we're married or anything."

"Not much point now," and she grinned at me.

I laughed back.

She looked beautiful, it made my heart leap to see her happy.

Despite my rather odd relationship with Asapin, and my more and more complicated feelings towards him, I knew, the instant that wonderful warm bounding feeling filled my heart that Maho was the only one I truly loved.

We sat there on the sand, chuckling, she still partly across me and her fingers digging a scrap of rubber out from between my teeth and the thought in my head was.

I love you.

- - - oOo - - -

And then after _that_, while we were all still high as kites, Tsubaki organised some beach volleyball. It was the Arima Fan Club versus the Tsubaki All Stars ("Upstarts, you mean," Yukino had sniped at us. "No, All Tarts," Asapin helpfully developed the insult). Arima and his harem; Yukino, Asapin and Tsubasa faced off Tsubaki, Maho, Rika and I.

Tsubaki, I was impressed by her commitment to her sport, had brought a beach volleyball net with her. The poles were telescoping aluminium ones like you get with tents and there was even a proper net, all rolled up in her bag. She and the boys assembled it, staking out the guy lines and drawing a pitch in the sand with their heels.

"This looks bad," I said.

"Baka! They only have three players," Tsubaki said, "Tsubasa doesn't count."

"Why?"

"Well, just look at her. She can't reach the ball even if it's on the sand."

That was Maho. Despite her quiet broodiness she has this way sometimes of coming out with really incisive remarks, little sharp digs at people that hit the target.

"Don't know how much help I'll be," Rika said.

"Take your costume off, that will distract Asapin," I said.

"And embarrass Arima," Tsubaki added, "Two birds with one stone."

"You're not very funny," said Rika, whining but still very sweet.

"Strip volleyball is it then, my darlings? Take off an item of clothing for each point lost?"

I looked at Asapin. Some days, you know, he had some damn good ideas. The thought of seeing not just him and Arima naked but Maho and Rika too… damn, he was distracting me, making me lose focus.

Unfortunately, despite the incredible prowess of Tsubaki and Maho (who proved to be a beautiful little mover as well), we were well and truly trounced. Asapin was good, Arima was fantastic, he really did look superb, jumping and reaching to spike the ball down hard, his chest muscles doing those amazing things that only the chest muscles of strong fit young men can do. It's so annoying how he can be brilliant at almost any sport he puts his hand to.

But their ace card was Yukino. That old "play to win or don't play at all" attitude that has made her what she is today was there even in a silly game of beach volleyball. Even when it was birthday girl on the losing team she was merciless. She shouted at her team, devised tactics, saw who our strong players were and then went for our weak spots. She was all over the pitch shouting and yelling and leaping about. I had never before seen _any_ tactical discussion huddles in casual mess-about beach volleyball before, let alone one every five minutes.

It _was_ funny though, if she were Prime Minister, Japan's collapsing economy could've been saved within six months.

Asapin as usual supplied the entertainment. Time and time again, as Arima would go for the ball, he would go for Arima, making it look like a mistake but getting lots of body contact in anyway.

We all collapsed onto the sand. Asapin and Arima had worked up quite a sweat. I looked at Arima. Tsubaki had been right; he'd really grown while he was away doing his kendo. He must be about five foot seven now and he'd filled out a lot too, his chest was broader, his neck muscles tauter and more defined and with sweat running down and him leaning back on outstretched arms behind him, his chest rising and falling he looked pretty damn good.

Maybe Yukino didn't need to see anything deeper in him, even though I knew she did.

She sat down between his raised parted knees and leaned her back against his chest.

"Uh, don't, I'm all sweaty."

"Mmm, lovely," she said, "you smell all boyish and fruity…"

She wiggled her bare back against his chest.

Tsubaki made a gagging sound and got up.

"Ew, yuck, all this caveman stuff and lovey-dovey smoochy rubbish makes me feel ill. I suddenly need to get clean water on me. Who wants a swim?"

I went in with her, Maho and Rika joining us.

- - - oOo - - -

We were lying on our backs in the sun, roasting nicely, Yukino and I. The boys had gone off somewhere for a walk and the girls were paddling in the shallows building a shell collection for Tsubasa.

Maho was a few yards away, her headphones on.

Yukino pushed herself up onto her elbows.

"I wonder if he would ever go with anyone?"

"Who?" I shaded my eyes and looked at her.

"Hideaki. What about Tsubasa?"

"Too short. They'd be dancing cheek to cheek."

"Well, Tsubaki then?"

"I can't imagine Tsubaki with any boy, let alone him. He creeps her out most of all of us doesn't he?"

I wondered where Yukino might take this.

"Rika then?"

I stared at her.

"You are joking? She's pure as driven snow. She'd want some innocent days at home knitting him a scarf or baking him a cake. I'm sure he'd love that."

"Hm, yes, and anyway Tsubaki's protective of her own little harem isn't she? So. Not Maho either."

"No, I can't imagine Maho having any photos of Asapin on her bedroom wall, can you?"

"No, not really. She might want his body though. To cut up in the name of medical research."

I chuckled. That was a very believable scenario.

"Hm, there is that. What about you? Why don't you dump Arima and go for a life of degenerate ambiguous sex and wild partying?"

I was trying to draw her out.

She refused to be drawn.

"What about you Sakana? If you and you-know-who doesn't work out? He's certainly fun, you'd never be bored."

"You're changing the subject."

"I'm happily spoken for," she smiled at me, "and you're changing the subject too. You and he seemed awfully close out there on those boards."

"I want to be happily spoken for too. Besides, he's got a thingy and no breasts, he's not my type. Whereas you, on the other hand, if Maho rejects me…"

"I don't have breasts either."

"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure I could make do."

"Ooh, don't, you're as creepy as Hideaki is."

"Thanks. That's really so good of you to say."

"That's all sorted then, You'd be the best in our group with him."

_Once again, insight without realizing it…_

- - - oOo - - -

It was getting late. Many families were packing up and going home. The beach was emptying out although the sun was still hot.

We were all gathered back under the umbrellas, some of the girls were playing cards.

"When are we heading back?" I asked.

"You want to go?" Tsubaki looked up, "Are we boring you then?"

"Not one bit. I'm having a lovely day. Can we stay all night?"

"That would get a bit cold," said Yukino

"I'll keep you warm," Asapin offered.

"Yeah, you would. If we set you on fire," Maho suggested smoothly.

I chuckled. She was joking but I had this feeling she and he weren't quite on the same wavelength. I think marriage was out of the question.

"Talking of fires," Asapin stood up, "shall we?"

"Come on then," Tsubaki stood too.

"What?" I asked.

"You'll see," said Yukino with a twinkle in her eye, "Stay here."

People got up and collected their things. No-one would tell me what was going on. Maho sat next to me.

"Stay here with me. Wait."

"What?"

"Surprise," she tucked a finger full of long black hair behind her ear and looked at me. The sun was going down now over the higher ground behind us and as she faced me it caught her hair, lighting up with reddish fiery tints the right side of it, and that side of her face. I stared at her. I couldn't look away.

"We'll call you when we're ready," Yukino said to Maho and I.

"Sure."

The others left us on one blanket and taking the rest of the gear went towards the sand dunes. I watched them go out of sight.

"What's going on?"

"Just a surprise, birthday girl. Be patient."

"Tell me."

"Nope."

"Tell me anything then."

"Such as?"

_What? What could I talk about with her? I wanted to talk about us._

"What's he like?"

_So I went right on ahead and talked about the one person I didn't want to._

She knew who I meant.

"I know how you feel about me, _Kanahrin_, so why do you want to talk about him?"

"I don't. Really… I just couldn't think of anything else…"

"You've been the life and soul of the party all day and now you're with me you clam up."

"Gomen."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"So. Why don't you do something about it, hm?"

I looked at her.

"Because… I'm afraid."

"Afraid I'll run a mile screaming? Run away to Asaba and beg him to protect me from a _real _pervert?"

"Don't make fun of me. I feel bad enough about it already."

"If they're your honest feelings why do you feel bad about them?"

"Because. Because I'm just not comfortable with them, okay?"

"But why? Is it because you really do think you're… you know. Broken?"

I looked at my toes. I wiggled them in the sand. Dug them in and lifted them out, watched the dry sand run between them.

"You know all about me then?"

"No, of course not. The only person I know all about is me. But what Inoue said was pretty obvious. And Yukino mentioned it."

"Oh, did she?"

Asapin had said she was no good with keeping secrets.

"She didn't do it to spite you, you know. She said it to help."

"What did she say?"

"That you have strong feelings towards me that might be more than friendship. She said you might phone me and come round to talk. You never did."

"Um…"

_Thank God. Yukino'd not told her I loved her._

"Why not?"

"Nerves."

"Sitting at home worrying isn't going to solve anything."

"Yukino said that to me too," I said, still staring at my toes.

"Why don't you come round my place on Tuesday then? I've done all my homework and the weather forecast is good. We can get some sun in the garden and talk."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Gomen. I'm busy tomorrow."

"With him?"

"You're fixated on him aren't you? That's bad for your mental health."

It was true. The fixation. And the bad mental health.

"Gomen. And Monday? Are you busy Monday?"

"Yes. I'm shopping with mom on Monday. New uniform blouses, my old ones are getting a little tight."

Tight? Where? Across the bust? I hadn't noticed that.

That surprised me. It was one of my main jobs to know what Maho's bust was up to.

"Oh, gomen."

"Stop apologizing for everything, get up off your backside and go get what you want from life. You're starting to piss me off."

"Gomen."

She sighed and brushed sand down off her shin.

"You bite your nails."

"I do, arigato for spotting that."

"Why?"

"Nerves."

"You? Nerves? What are you nervous about? You're the last person I'd expect to go fretting about something."

"Quite the little mental health consultant aren't we?"

He voice was cold. I didn't like that tone at all.

"I apologize for prying."

"Don't do it then."

"Gomen. Please don't be cross at me. I'm not very good with relationships."

"You seem to be doing fine with Asaba. Oh, look, they're ready. C'mon, let's go."

She stood up. Brushed sand off her bottom. I so wanted to do that for her.

"Hey, I said, there's nothing between me and him!"

She turned and gave me a big smile.

"Just teasing, you ninny. No-one in their right mind would get involved with that jerk."

She bent and picked up the blanket, shook it out and folded it.

We set off across the still hot sand towards the setting sun and the dunes.

- - - oOo - - -

We reached the first dune.

"Wait here a minute."

She ran up the grassy sandy slope. I watched her, legs, bottom, small waist. Bikinis suited her.

A voice called.

"All right! You can come in now!"

I went up the dune and over the top, down the other side.

It was a campfire, quite a large one. The boys must have gathered the firewood earlier. Various rocks and tree stumps were around it for seats. Asapin was cooking. He even had a wok with him and a portable rice steamer was on the fire. Everyone stood around. The sun had almost gone down now and dusk was coming. Each of them held a candle, a night light in a glass jar.

Rika sat to one side and began to play her guitar, she was very good.

"Happy birthday to you…  
Happy birthday to you…  
Happy birthday dear Sa-ka-naaaaaaar!  
Happ-eeee birth-day tooooo youuuuuuu!"

"Yay! Whoo-Hoo! Yo! Congrats! Hurrah! Yay!"

"Come on baka! There's cards and presents and everything!" Yukino waved me down.

I was completely overcome.

I'd not expected anything like this.

Friends.

Friendship.

I had no experience of this.

I couldn't handle it.

I sat down on a big stone and people began to thrust birthday cards at me. I opened them and laughed at the silly ones, blushed (and laughed too) at the rude ones and was moved by the kind ones, the loving ones.

Then I was handed presents.

First a woollen dress from Rika. It was beautiful, a deep green with a paler green four-leafed clover knitted into the design on the front. The work was exquisite, a very fine knit.

"Did you knit this?"

"Of course. I hope you like it."

"It's fantastic! When did you do it though?"

"During the week. I'm a fast worker."

"It's amazing. And very beautiful. Arigato gozaimasu."

Next, from Arima a personal CD player. It looked expensive.

"Oh, my. You've gone too far! I can't accept something like this."

"Of course you can. You deserve it."

I hadn't noticed it but there were tears in my eyes already.

"This is from Aya," said Rika, "and I made up the binding."

I unwrapped it. It was a book of verse, handwritten. The cover was two pasteboards with pressed wild flowers on the front, the whole thing laminated.

"Is this her work? She _wrote_ this?"

"Hm, original work. She has the drafts but that's the only copy."

I flipped through it.

"I'm sorry, I can't read it now, do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

"Say arigato gozaimasu to her for me, she's so kind."

Next, from Tsubasa an envelope.

I tore it open. A voucher for a free King Kong Sundae at Topps Parlour.

"Tsubasa, this must have been very hard for you to give. Arigato."

" 'S alright. I ate there anyway when I bought it."

"They've got parlours at Shinjuku and Shibuya don't they?"

"Hm, and Yokohama, and here in Kamakura, and…"

"Arigato, arigato. That's so thoughtful."

Asapin stepped forward and gave me a bright red shiny squishy parcel with a huge red bow on it.

I pressed it. It felt like clothing.

"Why does this worry me?"

"Have I ever done anything to embarrass you, Kanahrin?" he gushed

"Yes. Lots of times. I have a feeling this will be another."

It was underwear. Very naughty underwear. Trust him.

"Baka!" I said.

It was a bra and panties, black, lacy, see through and tiny. Oh, my God, and a garter belt. I'd never even _worn_ one.

I put my face in my hands, there were now two setting suns. Tsubaki snatched them up and held them for everyone to see.

"What I want to know is," she sang loudly, "is how you knew Sakana was a 28B…and a..," she grabbed the garter belt, "a 22 waist…"

"For God's sake, stop!"

I jumped up, helpless and bright red.

"And a 32 hips," Maho had reached from my other side and grabbed the panties.

"You're a 28B?" Yukino wailed, "I hate you!"

"Wow, someone's gonna have fun taking these off," Tsubaki continued mercilessly.

I folded up, face in hands.

"You lot are horrible to me."

"You don't like them then?" Asapin looked crestfallen.

"No, it's just you so have to go around embarrassing me all the damn time!"

"It's because you are the Queen of Kawaii when your face is the colour it is now."

"You can barbeque the food on it," Yukino said

"Ah! Success! You like them. You didn't say you didn't like them!"

Asapin danced around, happy as pie, skipping idiotically around the campfire.

"Whey hey, big deal, so Sakana likes your undies. Next! This is from me."

I took a small light packet from Tsubaki.

I was a couple of replacement mobile phone covers. One showed a swimmer diving the other was covered in naked women.

"What? Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Yeah, well, they were the only ones they had left in the five hundred Yen clearout bin. Next!"

"Ah, right, arigato…"

From Yukino, another envelope.

Inside was a slim volume, neatly printed on the front was the title HOKEUI HIGH SCHOOL OFFICIAL HOMEWORK STUDY AID, PART ONE: MATH, PART TWO: ENGLISH. I opened it. There were two one thousand Yen notes inside.

I chuckled.

"Arigato, Yukino, that's very thoughtful of you."

"Wait a minute," Maho said, "if you use those, the money goes straight back to source!"

"You cheap hussy!" Tsubaki rounded on her.

Yukino drew herself up into her full Queen of Fake pose, the one she'd used so often in the distant past. She flicked her hair back prettily.

"You don't actually expect me to _give_ money away, do you? The very concept is alien to my whole nature."

"Yukinon, cheers, that's very… inventive of you."

"And, from me."

I took the packet from Maho. It was pretty lilac paper.

It was a pack of school winter uniform black thigh socks. Five pairs.

"You never wore them last winter. I notice these things. If you're gonna be my friend and hang out with me you gotta dress properly, okay?"

"Maho. Arigato."

I stood up.

"Guys, I have to say something. And I have to say it now because if I don't, I'm going to burst into tears again and then I'll never say it. I have never had such a lovely day. The last birthday party I had was when I was seven. And that was just my family round a table with a cake. Today…"

The tears were flowing, the world in front of me streamed and bent and became like a rainy evening.

"…today I've found out that there are people who like me, who care enough to do this for me, and I wanted to just say…" I sniffed, "gomen. I wanted to say that I have never had any friends before. And you guys. Well, some of you are a bit odd, but I really love you all. The day, the fun we've had. I've never laughed so much in my life. And these cards and gifts. And now a campfire too, so romantic. Well, everyone, and to Aya too. Arigato gozaimasu…"

Yukino stepped up to me and put her arms round me. Then Maho did, then someone else, then everyone.

And then I really began to cry.

"Tsubaki," Arima said, "next time, just get her a box of Kleenex."

- - - oOo - - -

We sat around the fire. Asapin served up a stir fry and rice. Someone had brought a CD player and we had music. Some large garden candles on canes were brought out and stuck in the sand in a circle behind us, enclosing us in a ring of light in this wonderful hollow among the dunes.

It got dark. We chatted and joked. Asapin brought out his last few beers, warm now, but what the heck. I had one.

Then we cleared up the cooking stuff and all my gifts and Asapin and Rika got their guitars out and we had a sing along. They played whatever they could, folk tunes and pop songs mainly.

I put my dress on over my dry swimming costume, it was getting colder.

The night came. It was time to go.

"Everyone, can I have one last song? I hope you guys can play this. I know it's a funny time of year to ask for this but you know, a Christmas song would really make my day."

Everyone stood and gathered close, Rika could play it quite well and Asapin provided a rhythm. With Maho being reasonably good and Arima's deeper voice we even managed to get some harmonies going.

"Silent night, holy night  
All is calm all is bright.  
Round the virgin Mother and Child  
Holy infant so tender and mild.  
Sleep in heavenly peace,  
Sleep in heavenly peace.

"Silent night, holy night,  
Shepherds fear at the sight.  
Glories stream from heaven afar,  
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia;  
Christ the Savior is born;  
Christ the Savior is born.

"Silent night, holy night,  
Son of God, love's pure light.  
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,  
With the dawn of redeeming grace,  
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth;  
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth."

We finished singing. Rika continued playing gently and the sound of her guitar went away from the firelight, across the dark sand and the dark sea and into the night.

I'm not religious, I've told you that, I just absolutely love that song. It's a beautiful tune, truely haunting. It was one of my mom's favourites and despite how inappropriate it was, it was sung at her funeral. Singing it tonight I think helped me to close the door on that sad aching part of my life, eight years ago, and turn away and start a new part. At least I hoped so. And I hoped the people around me would be with me to help.

I moved. I'm not sure why. I think I had to be alone. I stepped away from the group and went around one of the dunes and down to the flat sand. I kept walking until my feet became wet and I stood and let the sea wash around my ankles.

The stars were beginning to come out although here on the south side of Tokyo Bay they were pretty much wasting their time. Out on the sea the fishing trawlers were going out and I watched their lights bobbing as they dipped towards the horizon.

Friends and friendship. I've fallen in with a very strange bunch of people.

Yukino; a woman who outwardly seems so strong yet inside has these funny little weaknesses and neuroses and fears; a timidity and a lack of self confidence. She thought she had everything, but it turns out what she fears most is having nothing.

Arima; Pale and Dark. On the one hand a confident self assured beautiful boy, capable of succeeding at anything. On the other hand seemingly hiding something horrible in his past that even Yukino seems to have trouble touching. I doubt I'll ever get close to you. I think you've chosen the one person in your life you plan to let come close. But if I can be a good friend to her, support her, then she can support you. That seems like a good deal.

Tsubasa; lonely, feeling deceived by her old boyfriend and her father yet easily pleased and so beautiful. Surely soon a boy will come along and take care of you.

Tsubaki; full of confidence, brash, outgoing, sporty and strong willed. And bloody annoying at times. You deny all interest in 'slushy stuff' but one day a girl, or a boy (still can't decide which) is going to come along and show you a totally new world. I'm sure of it. Then that'll rock your boat. I want to see your face then.

Aya; such a committed hard worker, so focused. Yet you seem so lonely to me. You need to be around your friends more. If you open yourself up to life around you I know that will make writing easier. Isn't that the way it is? You write best about the experiences you've had.

Rika; so pretty, so sweet, so innocent. I'm amazed you're as pure as you are with people like Tsubaki around you. You seem in some ways like Tsubasa to me, a person who won't have difficulty finding a soul mate but like her, your shyness and cuteness and beauty makes you hard to approach. Boys may think you're so lovely that you won't like them. Stay near your friends. Morons like that Tsubaki may have their uses, you can learn about life from them.

Hideaki; you and I have touched closely already and I know you well. I know what you want and I know it's not me. But while these days pass by before what you are looking for comes to you – spend them with me. This is one friendship where I know I want to be so close, and to learn wonderful things from you.

Maho; the one who entraps me and is the focus of my waking hours. This man you love, who is he really? Does he really get what he needs in life from you? Or is he just using you because you're so young and pretty and innocent and available? And if he should leave? What then? Who would you turn to? In three days time I know what I will do. I'm going to tell you everything.

Everything.

I am so glad we had today. Especially tonight. It meant so much to me. Arigato. Not for the gifts. But for the love. For all of you just being in my life.

Precious people. Precious things. Because they're too close and yet too far. I see them, talk to them, connect with them but I cannot hold them. I cry out to them. I respond to them with heartbroken looks.

But where you touch me and I touch you. We sing. We dance. We are.

- - - oOo - - -

_21 – 23 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Three, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	44. Ano Hito no Jijō

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**A/N: Warning. I have rated this story M now. There is a scene in this chapter that is a memory/recollection/flashback dramatization of the rape of an 11 year old child. It's the block of italicized text making up the whole of the fourth section. Feel free to skip this if you wish. The rape has been mentioned before in the story; referred to by Sakana as "The Incident", you, the reader, already know it happened. This is a rather more graphical recounting of it. Skipping it will not cause you to miss anything material.**

**Chapter Forty Four – Ano Hito no Jijō**

"_People can't understand others completely. Who knows if you can even understand yourself? Understanding each other one hundred percent is impossible. Of course that's why we spend so much time trying to understand ourselves and others. That's what makes life so interesting."_

- Ryoji Kaji, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Ep.18

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

I felt like you do when you know you have to go to the dentist.

You worry about it for days beforehand in case it's going to hurt.

You fret and sweat and panic and worry.

But when it comes time to actually stand up and walk into the dentist's room and sit in his chair a kind of peace comes over you and all your fears go away and you can face him calmly.

Because the time for worrying is over and now you're getting on with it. Making progress.

The time has come, so to speak.

That was how I felt on Tuesday. All the day before I was in a total panic, going over conversations in my head, round and around, making up dozens of possible ways to say it.

Whatever it was.

I had two long baths that day.

Over three hours in my womb. That's how panicky I was.

And walking to her house.

Past the bougainvillea down the street from me. Through the park. Beside the gardens of the houses. Ever since Maho had mentioned her love of flowers I had noticed them so much more. It was as though by being close to them and enjoying them.

I might be closer to.

And enjoy.

Her.

But I was fearful all that way, that long walk.

But like at a dentists, when she opened the front door and I went in, it changed.

A sense of great calm came over me. A fatalistic feeling.

I'm here.

This is it.

What will happen will happen.

What I will say, I will say.

I felt that when this day ended, everything would be different.

Today was a day of change.

And in that respect, like knowing the dentist might hurt you, it would at least be over, and my heart was buoyant as I walked into Maho's house.

"Your dad at work?"

"Oh, yes. At the factory today."

"And your mom?"

"Out at a friends birthday. You know, a girls day out. Drink?"

"Onegai. Have you just plain mineral water?"

"Sure."

We went into the kitchen.

She had a red bikini on and had thrown a cheesecloth wrap round herself. Her long straight hair had been gathered tightly up and scooped at the back up onto the crown of her head and held there by a big red plastic hair clamp. The handles of the clamp were shaped like two hearts. The ends of hair stuck up and forwards in a fan shape, like a little explosion going off on her head. It looked lovely, it was a really quick easy but sophisticated way of doing something cute with long hair.

She had a pair of sunglasses pushed up stylishly onto her hair.

"So you got all the homework done then?"

"In the end yeah."

"Even the math?"

"Hm, I did. Did you want to look at the last few problems…"

_Oh, don't remind me…_

"Uh…"

"…Seeing as you weren't here the rest of that morning when Yukino helped me out?"

She clattered about in the fridge and turned holding a tray with glasses and a plate of sliced fruits.

Her face – Coasting in Neutral – was enough to accuse.

She had reminded me.

"Gomen… about the other day."

"Its okay," she cut in, "I don't mind you borrowing my math study book. I'm not going to do a Yukino on you and charge for it."

"Uh, arigato."

"Money, that is."

"What do you mean?"

We went out of the kitchen and through her room (it was beautifully bright and sunny, every shouji was slid back and the room opened out direct to the back porch and garden). She kicked off her slippers and barefoot led me down across the grass. At the far side of the lawn was an old futon she'd thrown some towels over, a low wooden table and her clutter – a paperback, personal stereo, a few CDs.

I followed, not worried at all, but waded through a sweet smelling sea of calm and even.

Expectancy.

She put the tray down.

"Well, seeing as that was nearly two weeks ago and you haven't called me to explain what the hell is going on," she untucked the sheer wrap, dropped it on the table and sat down on one side of the futon, knees drawn up, "I thought I'd try and dig it out of you. I hate mysteries as much as the next person and you, Ryusaki Sakana, are more of a mystery than I'm comfortable with. So," she patted the futon beside her, "talk to me. I get the feeling that if I don't wring it out of you, you'll sit at home stewing over it forever."

This was it. She was offering me the dentists chair.

And I was no longer afraid.

I was pretty sure this was not going to hurt.

I dropped my bag, unzipped my pleated skirt and stepped out of it (the yellow one again today, if you're interested), folding it carefully and laying it on the table by her wrap. I unbuttoned my sleeveless white blouse and that joined the skirt.

I'd wondered if she was going to watch me strip, but she didn't. Oh, well.

A little nervous, yes, but not for the reasons I've told you, I sat next to her.

She'd put her sunglasses on, now her eyes were impossible to read.

"Nice bikini."

"Arigato."

"Not your usual style."

"No."

"Asaba buy it for you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's what I think. It's a bit rude isn't it? A bit suggestive. I can imagine him buying it. And of course he found out your size somehow didn't he? And a boy doesn't go around buying a girl pretty lingerie if he's just one of her mates she meets in coffee bars and shopping malls."

"Uh, about that…"

"That was a silly thing for him to do in front of us all. A boy doesn't give Moyuru lingerie as a joke either, too expensive. You are seeing him after all."

"The old clever, calculating, scheming Izawa, hm?"

"Inspector Izawa of Interpol never loses a case."

"How did you guess?"

"It was easy. You were seen," she pulled her sunglasses to the end of her nose and looked over them at me, "Yumi was with her boyfriend at a bowling alley one day and she said she saw you two there. Getting quite intimate apparently."

"All right, so I've gone out with him a few times."

"And?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Red rag to a bull, that is. Now I'm curious."

"Gomen, but I won't lie to you. Yes, I see him occasionally and no, we're not '_going out'_, we're not girl- and boy-friend."

She made a funny noise, a little like choking it seemed.

"Rumi thought he was being pretty intimate."

"He was teaching me."

"Is that what it was?"

"We're not going out together. I'm not lying to you!"

"But he knows you well enough to buy you a gift from Moyuru," she folded her arms and looked smug.

"Yeah, but you know he's a bit odd. He's just the kind of guy who does that even when he might not know a girl that well."

"Watch out. He's got to be one of the weirdest, creepiest guys ever."

"It's a front. He's quite a nice person once you see behind all that rubbish. It's just for show."

"What's the point in having a front that just pisses girls off?"

"Maybe you're not the kind of girl his showmanship is designed to attract?"

"Clearly not. But… you're not saying _you_ are?"

"All I'm saying is he goes down the beach, goes to night clubs and such and that mask he wears is attractive to the kinds of girls he wants to meet."

"Dimwits who want one night stands? Is that your description of yourself?"

"No. But inside he's quite a complex person, he meets girls without emotional attachments because he's keeping emotional attachments at arms length. He doesn't want a complicated relationship in his life right now."

"He's just immature then."

"No, I think he's doing it for good reason. He says he's waiting for the right girl to come along, and one day, when she does, he's going to commit to her."

"So meanwhile he's using you. You're his One Night Stand Lady."

"I thought I came here to talk about me."

She reached around for her drink and took a sip.

"You're still avoiding the question."

"I'm not his one night stand lady, okay?"

"Fine."

"Why do you care what I get up to anyway?"

What she said next surprised me. Even shocked me.

"You're my friend. I care about my friends. If you're seeing perverted boys that bothers me. Yukino too. You'd be surprised. She and I have had a few talks about you."

"Gossiping about me behind my back?"

"No, Kanahrin, not gossip, not rumouring, not idle chit-chat. It may surprise you to know that there are people around you who care."

I looked at my feet, wiggled my toes.

"You're not messing me about?"

"Why would I do that?"

"I just find it hard to believe."

"That people care about you? Wow, you do have problems."

"Gomen. My crying fits are evidence of that aren't they? How confused and mixed up I am. I'm no good with people, I've never had friends. I've always been shy."

"You've changed a lot this year. It's impressive."

"It is?"

Asapin saw it too. It must be showing.

That made me feel good.

"Hm. You're doing well, really coming out of your shell."

She chuckled.

I thought of a tumbling mountain stream.

"I remember our early conversations. You could hardly string two words together."

"I had trouble stringing one."

"Can you do that?"

"String one word together? Probably not, but whatever it was I had trouble doing it."

"And look at you now. Making jokes about yourself. Wearing very tiny and very cheeky bikinis and going out with boys."

"I'm not going out with him. It's not official."

"That makes you an even more mature person. If you can have a relationship with a guy that's not an official boyfriend-girlfriend thing and neither of you feel some silly teen urge to commit then that's a really mature way of knowing someone."

"You just said if Asaba did that it was immature!"

"Good point. You've got a sharp mind too. You win this round."

"Uh… arigato."

"And you've bumped into some friends and they care about you," she pushed her sunglasses back up into her hair and gave me a lovely smile. My heart melted, "and for good reason. You were a good friend to one of them too."

She put her hand on my arm. And frowned.

"Which is why I'm getting seriously pissed off with you keeping this big black secret inside you and not coming to me to talk about it."

"Uh, gomen. I'll try…"

So I did.

I turned round and took a drink of water and munched a slice of watermelon, then a slice of pineapple. She had some too.

I bought time for myself by getting up and rummaging in my bag. I got my suntan oil and rubbed it on myself. I didn't have the guts to ask her to do it but my guess is she'd have just said no.

"Nice tan. Spend a lot of time down the beach do you? With Asaba?"

"Don't go there again. Yeah, we went boarding once or twice. But mostly I lie in the garden at home. Trying and failing to pluck up the courage to phone a certain person. To talk to you."

"Now's your chance."

I lay down on my back, put my own sunglasses on. Got comfy.

"People care about you too, Maho. I care."

I closed my eyes, this was harder than I'd thought.

"I care a lot. I'm going…" I turned my head to her. She'd laid down too, on her side facing me, head raised on her elbow, "I'm going to talk. I'm going to tell you everything. Maho… this is going to be hard and it'll take a long time. Please do something for me."

"Sure."

"Don't interrupt. This is going to be hard enough to spit out without interruptions."

She took another slice of fruit from the plate and munched it.

"I'm listening."

I began.

- - - oOo - - -

"I was a mistake. My parents didn't intend to have me. My father got cross with me one day when I was about six. I can't remember why. But he turned on me and cursed me and told me he'd never wanted me, nor had mom. That I was an accident.

"So that attitude of my parents towards me kind of became a template for my life. My mom was a good mom, but she always seemed to be tired and very busy and had no time to play with me or be nice to me, give me cuddles.

"I hated dad. He was a complete bastard. He never did anything. He was a traditional husband. He had a good job with some bank or accountancy firm, I can't remember. He worked hard and was often late home. But when he got home he did nothing. He'd get changed – hm, he always wore traditional kimono in the house, very old-fashioned guy. He'd eat dinner. We all had to wait until he got in, even if it was late, so we were all starving and he'd be tired and often grumpy and mealtimes. Well, I hated them.

"The other day when we stayed at Yukino's place and had dinner and breakfast there. I enjoyed that so much. It was such fun. They're all so silly and happy."

"Her dad's weird. And her kid sisters, acting like they're ten years older than they are. Odd," Maho said, reminding me of how uncomfortable she'd seemed that day.

"Yeah, but so happy too. I'd love to have had a family like that. Mealtimes like that. Everyone having fun and free to say what they like. Our dinner table was like a morgue sometimes. I'd love to live with…"

_You_

"…someone who was happy and carefree like that."

"Hm, yeah, when you say it like that. Yeah, I guess its better than a funeral parlour."

"After dinner he'd go into the best room which he called the library. The books were kept there and his gramophone and he'd sometimes listen to music. But usually he'd read the paper and smoke. And that was all he did. He was just an income, nothing more.

"He never gave me one single scrap of love in all the years I knew him. Not one kiss. Not one damn hug. Not a single fucking kind word.

"I hated him. I hate him still. If he was like that why the hell did he have a family?"

I was cross already, and upset.

I knew I'd cry today.

I always do.

I swallowed back the threatening tears and carried on.

"My mom had twins when she was in her mid twenties. A boy and a girl. So when I was born they were eleven. My brother had nothing to do with me. It was strange. It was like I had two sets of parents. Big parents and even bigger parents. I was a child alone in a world of grown ups. Sis was very good to me though. She pretty much brought me up single handed. I was lucky in that respect. She was at that age you know? Puberty. She was just into thinking about babies of her own, how young girls do? So when I came along she took charge of me and mom got on with whatever it was she got on with. Housework I guess. Cooking.

"I remember… I remember one summer. I don't know how old I was, four maybe. It was hot and sis would sleep with me. One summer it was so hot we slept outside on the back porch with just an insect net hung over us from the porch roof. In the morning I woke up and she was cuddling me and I felt so nice. Out there in the daylight with the garden and everything.

"She was good to me, was sis. She'd often take naps with me in the daytime. I guess she'd come home from school and do her homework and before dad got home we'd lie down together on a futon somewhere, some odd little corner. Maybe behind the sofa and just doze for an hour or two.

"I can… I can smell her now."

Tears came.

Big and fat and slow and rolling down.

Like they always do.

I sat up, wiped my face.

"Gomen. I knew I'd get like this. Gomen."

Maho lay there, propped up on her elbow watching me, saying nothing. Coasting in Neutral.

I wish she didn't have that expression.

One day, if she'll let me, I'm going to go through her mood index cards and throw that bloody one out. I don't mind Mildly Annoyed or Bored, I can respond to those. Do something to fix it. But I _hate _Coasting in Neutral. I can't read her.

Big sigh.

Big breath.

Carry on.

"I was seven when mom got cancer. It was spring, a lovely hot year we had that year. Your garden reminds me of ours back then."

Something came to me.

Yes.

"That's right. She was a gardener. She loved gardening. Maybe that was why she always seemed to be busy. And our garden…. Yes, yours reminds me. So that's why I was in such a funny mood the other day."

"What day?" Maho asked.

"When I came to do homework study with you. And Yukino came later. You were… that's right, at the shouji screens looking out and I saw the amazing flowers in your garden. Wait."

I got up and walked to her room, climbed the steps onto the porch and turned, my back to her bed.

Bougainvillea, azaleas, gardenias, sun flowers. Amazing rich colours, reds, pinks, whites, yellows. The tall dense bushes down one side of the garden.

_A person was there._

_A round, middle aged lady, a little overweight with a red face. She wore a large flat straw hat with a very wide brim to keep off the sun and over one forearm was a light basket of woven reeds. With small sharp silver clippers she cut a few blossoms and lay them in her basket._

_She turned to me._

"_Oh there you are dearest. Shall we have some tea? Would you get your sis to go make it? Arigato gozaimasu."_

"_Yes, mom, I'll ask her."_

_I turned away, stepped past Maho's bed. A thought came to me. I turned back._

"_Mom?"_

"_Yes dearest?"_

"_Have you seen the doctor recently?"_

"_Doctor? No, why ever should I do that?"_

"_I… I just. Uh. I'll go find sis."_

_I walk inside (why is Maho's bed in the library?) and ask sis to make tea and tell me about how soon its possible to diagnose breast cancer._

I stood on the porch. I leaned against one of the wooden uprights that supported the roof and which gave shade in the hot afternoons.

I'm no longer six, but sixteen and wearing a silly little white bikini and tears are flowing and pattering on the smooth polished boards that overlook Maho's garden.

"Sakana?"

I looked up. She's there.

The one I love.

Looking beautiful.

More beautiful than someone like me deserves to gaze upon.

"Yes?"

"Come here. Sit down. Have a drink."

"Yes."

I walked to her.

I didn't notice her watching me walking.

"Dry your eyes."

I did.

I sat and wiped and sniffed the tears back.

_Mom…_

"She loved gardening. Our garden is a real mess now. In summer sis just sends a man round once every two weeks to cut back the weeds and mow the lawn. But I remember how lovely it once was. Mom had a little pebbled area with rocks, you know in traditional style. There were lots of grasses and black bamboo and acers and a bamboo water feature. It used to bonk out every few minutes. A lovely sound. It might even still be there buried under the weeds. I should go look one day.

"But she didn't fight the cancer and I never knew why. She just let it come and take her away. Six months it lasted. It was fast. I held her hand… my eighth birthday I remember we went to the hospital and she was in bed. She was… so thin. Almost nothing left of her. I held her hand. As I said before, until this spring that was the last time anyone had held my hand. And that's the last time I remember her. She must have died very soon after that. A couple of weeks. I was eight. She was only forty-three."

I looked up at Maho. She was still quietly watching me.

"You know, that makes it around now I guess. It can only have been a couple of weeks after my birthday. Near the end of August."

_Mom._

_Next time we meet._

_I'll pick flowers for you._

_And make you tea._

_And there won't be any cancer._

_And we'll never be parted._

_Sayonara…_

- - - oOo - - -

I wasn't sure how I went on, but I did. After a short break in which the dentist kindly sat watching me, not probing or gushing with fake hypocritical sympathy. Just watching me.

How I respected her for that.

"The next year my brother went away. He would have been about twenty. He did a few low skilled jobs for a while, mostly round the docks. Then he joined a ship and so moved from ship to ship I guess and was away about three years. I hardly noticed he'd gone. He was pretty invisible at home. Very much like dad."

We knelt on cushions on the porch in the shade. Midday now; the sun was fierce and we'd retired out of it. Maho had made tea and we sat and drank it. She'd put her wrap back on but I didn't bother covering up.

"Sis took over running the household although she had her own boyfriend so something had to give. The garden went to seed, went wild. I suppose it reminded dad of her so he took no pleasure in it, sis hadn't the time and my brother didn't give a fuck."

"You use a lot of bad language."

"Gomen. Only when I talk about my family. I'll try not to."

"Oh, it doesn't particularly bother me, it's just that you never use it other times. So, I wondered why."

"Then sis got married. That would have been, hm… around the end of the eighties when I was ten. She left home, but would come round frequently, a couple of times a week. I was quite a bright kid still at this time. I enjoyed elementary school, even had a few friends but dad never allowed them to come to my house. That's just the way he was.

"At the end of the next year my brother came back. He was between jobs and just bummed around. I hated having him about. He'd changed a lot. He was just creepy, much more grown up and it was like having someone else living with me and dad. A total stranger. He ate all our food, drank a lot and didn't clean up. I don't think he gave dad any money for his board. Dad just let him take advantage. I would hear him, some nights… doing things… in his room. I'd hear his heavy breathing. It was horrible. I was so stupid then, I knew nothing. I didn't know what he was doing. He sounded ill. I know now of course.

"And then."

I paused. I looked out at Maho's lovely garden, the bright colours, the sunshine. I uncurled my legs from under me and drew my knees up. I held them to me and put my chin on them.

I hugged myself tight.

And then.

_**Yes, Saka, what next? Our little secret. I know you don't have the balls to tell.**_

_Yes I do. I'm going to. So you can just shove it._

"He raped me. My brother. I was eleven.

"I was in the bathroom. Just washing. I'd had. I'd had certain thoughts. You know? About boys and was kind of interested. Curious. I'd seen movies on TV and read books of course so I kind of knew a little. I knew that when you _did it_, the boy touched you. Down _there_. With his thing. So I guess, like most girls I did too. To see what it was like."

I turned my head. Maho was looking out at the garden too, her cup halted half way to her lips.

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"No," she said, and suddenly realised she'd got a cup in her hand. She put it down quickly.

"Gomen, but, well. I need to say all this.

"I'd done it a few times. Well, sorry if this is embarrassing but, well, I'd begun doing it a lot. Hm… I'd become quite good at it. I could make myself feel nice quite quickly now. So I was washing and just started to touch. As you do. And… he came in. I hadn't locked the door and maybe. I don't know. Maybe he thought the room was empty and maybe he knew I was in there… I've never been able to decide which.

"He saw what I was doing. I pulled my fingers away at once but too late. He saw. I was so embarrassed I thought I'd die. And terrified. Scared shitless. Afraid he'd tell dad. I'd die of shame if he told dad. It was horrible. So my brother said:

- - - oOo - - -

"_Well, what have we here? A pretty little girly all on her own and touching her dirty little toy. How simply… fortunate."_

_He stepped into the room, closed the door. I saw him turn the key. There wasn't any need. Dad was at work and it wasn't sis's day to visit. I'd come home from school, done my studying and was washing before starting dinner. Then…_

"_You know, Saka, if dad finds out what you're doing he's gonna be so angry. I'm sure he'll take his belt to you."_

"_He wouldn't?"_

"_Oh, he would. He might even throw you out. I don't think he likes that sort of dirty stuff in the house."_

"_Don't tell him! Please don't tell him!"_

"_All right. I won't. But…"_

"_What?"_

"_He doesn't like dirty stuff like that. But I do…"_

"_What? What?"_

"_I'll tell you what."_

_He stepped closer._

"_Let me play with your dirty toy and dad won't find out what you've been doing."_

_He was horrible. He hardly washed much, he hardly shaved. He was big and hairy and dirty and sweaty and stank and made me feel ill. I didn't want him any closer._

_But he came closer._

"_What a pretty blouse. Did you wear that to school today?"_

"_Yes."_

"_You go to middle school starting next year don't you?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And you'll have a uniform for the first time?"_

"_Yes."_

"_What will it be like?"_

"_I… I don't know."_

"_I expect it'll be a sailor fuku. Very kawaii. Very pretty. You'll look so pretty in it, won't you Saka?"_

"_I… don't know."_

"_I'm sure you will. You're pretty now."_

_He was sweating. I could see beads of it standing on his forehead and running down in front of his ears. He had his hands by his side and he kept balling them into fists then opening them a little, then squeezing them to fists again. Like. It looked like he didn't know he was doing it. It made him look like an animal. Like a bull about to charge or something._

_He was just so much bigger and stronger than me. I was so afraid._

"_Uh."_

"_Are you wearing a bra yet?"_

"_Please…"_

"_If you don't tell me, I'll tell dad you play with your dirty toy."_

"_Please…"_

"_Well?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Show me."_

"_I can't."_

"_Oh, well, dad'll be home at seven. I'll tell him then."_

"_No! Please don't."_

"_Take your blouse off then and show me."_

_I did, my fingers going to the buttons, shaking, panicking. I undid the blouse and opened it and he reached for it and pulled it back hard so it hurt me. He pulled it down off my shoulders._

"_Very pretty. You're growing fast aren't you? Do you touch your pretty little dirty pillows too?"_

_I began to cry._

_He put his hands on me. I cringed back, crying._

_And then._

_Then he did it._

_He tore off my blouse, and pulled up my bra and touched me. And hurt me._

_I cried and cried and he did._

_Everything._

_He turned me round and forced me down, kneeling over the edge of the bath. He knelt behind me._

_And did it to me._

_More than once._

_And not just in the front._

_But in the back too._

_I screamed and screamed, he hurt me so._

_There was so much pain._

_So much blood._

_Then he went away saying I'd better clean everything up before dad came home. If dad found out I'd had a boy in the house and had been dirty and disgusting with him, he'd take his belt to me, then disown me and throw me out._

- - - oOo - - -

And that's how I came round.

I was sat on the edge of Maho's bed.

I have no recollection of us getting there.

And Maho was sitting beside me, and holding me tight.

Hugging me and hugging me.

And I was, as I so often seem to do these days.

Sobbing my heart out.

Maho didn't say anything.

She didn't try to soothe with cheap platitudes.

She didn't say 'there, there it's all over, its all better now'.

Knowing it wasn't.

But what she did do was exactly what I needed.

She held me.

Tight.

For a long time. A long, long time.

And rocked me, gently, to and fro. To and fro. She sang too, just hummed a tune. I don't recall it at all but her deep smooth chocolatey voice hummed this lovely tune into my hair while she held me.

She reminded me of sis.

Sis would sit with me when I was unhappy and sing to me.

I've only ever loved two people, loved them properly.

Sis. And you Maho.

Arigato.

Even if we can't be together.

Even if I can't have you.

Live with you.

Wake up next to you.

Arigato, for what you do for me.

I was at the dentist.

I had come round after the anaesthetic had worn off.

The bad tooth had been pulled.

I was achy and empty and sore.

But it was over now, and the worst pain was done with.

After a long time I sat up.

"Can we go back out in the sun?"

"Hm, if you want to."

"I do. I love the warmth and your lovely garden. It cheers me up."

"Alright. Why don't you go out there and I'll bring more drinks."

- - - oOo - - -

"A few weeks after that, he went away. My brother left the house and went to sea again. He's been in touch with sis a few times, but has never been home again, and I'll not let him set foot inside either, if he does come back. I think he's on oil tankers now. I don't know where but probably shuttling back and forth between Kamigoto Oil Facility and either the Arab Gulf or Mobile Bay, somewhere like that.

"I hope a fucking hurricane comes and sinks his ship. And the bastard can rot forever in hell."

I rubbed more suntan oil on. My shoulders were burning.

We were both sat up, side by side. Sipping our drinks.

"And you never told anyone? Not even your dad?"

"No. No-one. Until recently. I told Asapin."

"You did?" shocked surprise.

"Hm. And you. Not even Yukino knows.

"Why did you tell Asaba?"

"I know him Maho. You don't. I trust him. He's not the baka you think he is."

"So. Is that all?"

"No. It's not. I've hardly started. Dad died soon after. A couple of months after that. He was on a train coming home from work. He was sat reading a paper apparently and had a massive heart attack. Killed him instantly the doctor said. The train got to the end of the line and the guard went to shake him thinking he was asleep and he was stone dead. Strange world isn't it? Just an ordinary train ride, just like twenty thousand other train rides he'd done. Only on this one he died.

"I've spoken ill of dad but maybe I shouldn't. He did do two things right. One was he had a good life insurance policy. The payment was very large. A third went to my brother, a third to sis and a third is held in my sis's name on trust for me. It's not even invested in Japan but in American companies. So the crap that Japan is going through now shouldn't hurt it.

"The other thing he did was write a will that stipulated that the house must not be sold until his youngest child reached the age of eighteen. Which meant that I was able to carry on living there. Sis and her husband lived there too for about a year until I was nearly fourteen but then her husband got moved away with his job and since then I've lived alone. Sis visits when she can, about once a month and phones me once a week. We have a gardener guy who comes round twice a month or so and sis has the number for a repair man who comes to fix any plumbing jobs or electrics or the roof and such like.

"The money dad had saved up was also split between the three of us and my share is being used up to keep the house in good order and it's my monthly allowance. It's not much but I get by. If expensive stuff like school uniforms come up then sis buys them and keeps an account and offsets that against my trust fund. When I'm eighteen and it becomes mine, she'll just take the bit where she has spent her money out of it.

"Living alone at first was a Big Adventure. I loved it, not having brother or dad around. It's funny, you'll find this hard to understand but I was happy dad had gone. I still don't miss him now. And I haven't cried a single tear for him.

"But that's when things started to go wrong. When I began middle school I guess. After my brother did what he did. I withdrew into myself. I stopped making friends, withdrew from my old friends who'd come up from elementary school. I turned inwards. I became lazy and didn't study. My grades took a nosedive. How I scraped into Hokuei High I'll never know. I must have been almost at the very bottom of the 300 students.

"I began to eat badly. Junk food, crap I bought on the way home. My diet was shit, I put on weight. Lots of weight. I got spotty. I stopped bathing properly and I stank. You want to know why? So people would stay away. So I wouldn't make friends. And I didn't want to make friends. I hated everyone. I didn't want anyone near me.

"I had awful nightmares. Of a man chasing me and attacking me. He would hit me with a big sword and then stick it in me. Up _there_. Again and again until blood poured out of me. Night after night he chased me.

"I was bullied at school. I got picked on because I was fat, and spotty, and smelly, and a loner. I often spent my lunch hours locked in washroom cubicles. And from a bright intelligent elementary school kid, I became a complete loser. All through middle school when I was twelve, thirteen, fourteen and my body was changing and blossoming. I hated it. I hated being attractive, having any men or boys look at me. I'd go to school with long lank unwashed hair.

"I was awful. Awful to look at, awful to be around. And for three years that was what I wanted. So no-one would come close to me. I didn't want them close.

"I became a neurotic wreck. Sis sent me to a counsellor but I just clammed up and refused to talk. I hated all men for years. And this spring when I came here to Hokuei my whole emotional and sexual development was on a knife edge and I obviously needed and craved love. However I couldn't love a boy and my mind was so fu… gomen. My mind was so messed up that I found I wanted someone to take control of my life. To take charge, take control of me. I think that was a big sister thing? That's all I can think of. The only love I've ever experienced was at the hands of women so."

I stopped. Maho had put her hand on my arm.

"So you fell in love with me? Is that it?"

I hung my head.

"Gomen nasai."

I lifted my other hand and laid it on hers.

"Arigato, Kanahrin. I feel… I don't know. So honoured that you've told me this. And yet such an intruder as well. I've got a hint of what drives you. I think I can understand now why you were like you were, and yet the changes you've gone through this year," she shook her head as though in disbelief or amazement, "incredible. Knowing this now, your change since April is even more – well, wonderful is the word that comes to me."

"But you're happy. You have someone already. Maho…"

"Hm?"

"I'm. I'm in love with you. Very much. And now I know you already have someone you love. I don't know what to do."

She smiled at me but it was a thin smile, a smile that said _"there, there, it can't be helped."_

She gave my arm a little squeeze and went to pull away but with my hand I held hers in place. I lowered my head, lifted my hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Arigato. For listening. It's been a big help. I should go now."

And get out of your life.

"No. Wait."

She held my arm more tightly.

"There's something I want to tell you.

"It was my last year of middle school. May. The sakura blossoms had just finished but lots of other flowers and trees were in blossom. I love the springtime when all the flowers start to come out. It's my favourite season. I would vary my walk to school, going down different streets and trying to find different gardens to peer over walls into. One day I came across a street I'd not been in before. It had a public garden in the centre and round the edge some nice new modern apartments. One block caught my eye particularly.

"I went in and got a bit lost in the foyer area. I went along a corridor and found myself in an underground car park. There was a man there. I was a bit startled. I thought he was a doorman or a security guard. It turned out he lived in one of the apartments. He was very polite but guided me out. Wandering about the basement levels of strange apartments wasn't what a fourteen year old school girl should be doing, he'd said.

"Strange though, I bumped into him the next day. I was with some friends of mine at that time. A couple of them were little horrors I guess. There was a shop we'd go in on the way home from school and buy sweets and things. One day one of the girls stole some batteries and we all ran out. But I was pretty annoyed with her. This was our shop we went in on the way home so it was stupid to steal from the guy who ran it. I took the batteries back in to him. And then gave my mates a piece of my mind.

"It turned out that right across from the shop was a dentists surgery - it's the Nakagawa Dentistry - and a man had watched all this. He called to me and recognised me as the girl who'd be hiding in his car park, he said. I don't know how it happened but somehow in running out of the shop I'd cut my leg. He called me into the surgery and bandaged it up. I thought that was pretty strange but he said that a dentist is also a doctor as well.

"That struck me because I'd been thinking about being a doctor when I was older. Making injured or sick people well seemed a pretty good thing to do with my life.

"And after that we just kept bumping into each other again and again. In the park or in the street. In the gardens near where he lived. I got a crush on him, as you do when you're fourteen. One day I was brave enough to ask to see inside his apartment, so he let me in. It was a beautiful place, all modern and brightly lit and clean with sharp edges, steel and white furniture and big pot plants. I loved it. It was just how I imagined a doctors house would be.

"The whole place was just him, perfectly him. Takashi Yusuke. Neat and tidy and clean and smart.

"And I was sat there at his table, in his kitchen, having a drink. It seemed the most normal thing in the world for me to be doing. You know, going to my boyfriends house. And it just came out, just popped out of me. I told him I loved him.

"It got a bit messy after that. He told me he was twenty seven and couldn't been seen with a girl of fourteen. If my parents found out there might be trouble. For his career it wasn't wise either. We met a few times but he pulled away from me. He held me at a distance because I was so young.

"So all that year I worked hard at school. Very hard. I became determined to be a person he could respect, see as an equal and not as a child. I did well in tests and exams and in sports. I was top of my class and then by the end, top of my year.

"I took the entrance exams for Hokuei and passed easily. I was so proud. Finally I thought I was someone he'd want to know. Fifteen now, one day late last year when it was snowy, I put on my brand new Hokuei winter uniform and walked over to his apartment. He was in the gardens wearing a heavy overcoat and a thick muffler, walking. I went up to him and he seemed surprised to see me. Maybe he thought I wouldn't come back. Maybe he thought this girl would go and find a boy her age and forget him. Maybe, just maybe he noticed how I'd grown. I hoped so.

"It turned out he suffers from migraines. Bad ones. He was off work that day with one. I made up my mind there and then. The branch of medicine I'd study was neurology and one day I'd do something, make a discovery that would help migraine sufferers.

"All through winter and spring and this summer I've been seeing him. I've still not told my parents and it's a worry because sooner or later someone who knows mom and dad will see us in town and tell them."

"Bowling," I said, staring at my toes.

"What? Oh, yes, bowling. So. I've decided I have to tell them and when I'm eighteen and finish high school I want to marry him. He has said he doesn't want to take things any further until I'm eighteen."

"Really? I'm surprised. So you've never…?"

She grinned at me.

"No, never. I want to and I think he does too but we've decided. Not until I leave school."

"Wow. It's just the way you are. I thought you had experience. You seem like a girl who has."

She smiled again.

"Only like you. On my own."

- - - oOo - - -

We went inside and had a light lunch and came out again in the afternoon. I was lying on my front and in my head what she'd said was going round and around.

She loved him.

She wanted to marry him.

He'd never touched her.

She wanted him to.

He wanted to.

Thoughts bouncing around.

"I think you should go for a boy."

"I thought you might say that."

"Sakana, I like you a lot. And we're good mates, yes? But."

"But you're not like that. I understand."

"Gomen. As a friend I almost. It's like I love you. I think I do. But not as a lover. I can't."

"It's my fault for being so totally screwed up. I guess it's up to me to get over it."

"You know, if we were just friends, I'd feel okay putting some more oil on your back. But now, it's different."

"You would have rubbed oil on me?"

"Hm, I think so, yeah."

"Damn. I should have just kept my mouth shut."

"You don't really think that do you?"

"No. Not really. I'm glad I told you. It's a huge weight off my mind."

"Good."

"I'll rub oil on you though, if you like."

"No, it's okay," and she gave me a mischievous grin.

And that's how it ended.

Her mom came home, offered me some tea but I declined.

I took Maho's math study book and made my way home.

(At least that was an excuse to go back again soon).

I had hoped for more, of course. I had hoped Maho might do the unexpected and turn to me at the end of my sorry tale, but no. It seems she is in love in the same way I am, and is happy and prepared to commit. I am happy to see her happy, but you know how it is.

You'd always be happier to see someone happy with you, wouldn't you?

It was a strange day, one of the strangest of my life. The ending was anticlimax but given that Maho might decline my offer of a whirlwind girly romance what other ending could there be? I wasn't going to create a scene, sobbing at her breast and clinging to her and begging her, if that's what you'd expected.

My heart felt both lighter and heavier.

I felt like I'd been through a battle that neither side had lost or won.

I was just mangled and shattered at the end if it.

The flowers on the way home didn't look so pretty somehow.

I got home, took a shower, had a bite to eat in robotic auto-pilot mode and then just lay in bed.

And as I half thought I would.

I cried.

It's no good.

I'm crazy about you.

I'll love you for ever.

Now I have to work out how I'll get through life knowing I'll never have you.

Yet tormented by you being in class every day.

How would I cope?

Asapin.

Asapin would know.

Or if he didn't know, he could at least help.

And if he couldn't help, there were far worse places to be than in his bed.

Which is why, later that evening I got out of bed, groggy from sleep and left a message on his answer phone, telling him I'd be round in the morning.

- - - oOo - - -

_23 - 25 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Four, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	45. Of SuntanOil And A Release From Darkness

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Five – Of ****Suntan Oil And A Release From Darkness**

"Bring a swimming costume. We'll get some sun."

"I was going to. See you later."

"Ciao, cuteness."

_Cuteness_? I smiled. He was a goofy moron and no mistake.

I put the phone down. He'd called me back first thing in the morning to say he'd _love to see me_, and did I realise that coming to his place was like walking into the lions den? I'd said, _maybe, unless I'm suffering extreme trauma and once again need counselling from Asaba Snuggles Inc_.

_Ah_, he'd said, sounding less sure now, _yes, there is that_.

Already feeling better than I had yesterday evening, I packed my bag and went.

An overnight bag.

- - - oOo - - -

I'd worn the dress that Rika had knitted for me. I can't believe how clever that girl is. It was beautifully made and being stretchy it, hm, well, it fit very well indeed. Clingy I think is the technical term. Which if you have a flat stomach is fine, only mine wasn't. I was trying for one but wasn't there yet.

But anyway, something to aim for.

Meanwhile, walking with your stomach muscles held in is always good exercise.

"Ohayo!"

"Ohayo!"

"Yay! Dress!"

"It is a dress, yes."

"You look great, succulent."

_Succulent_? One day he'll run out of silly adjectives and then he'll be completely stuffed.

He'll have to tell me I'm beautiful and then I'll know he's lying.

"Arigato, you smooth talking bastard."

"Ooh, are we happy today or what? Come in!"

"Arigato!"

He looked lovely. Big baggy Bermuda shorts with an eye-wateringly loud floral design, mostly shocking pink and yellow and an equally baggy Hawaiian shirt, again painful to behold – a beach scene with yellow sand, blue sky, green palm trees and some babes in red bikinis posing near the surf.

His hair was blonder now, the sun had bleached it this last couple of months. And it was longer too, down to his collar now. Yeah, it suited him.

"Beer?"

"It's not even eleven yet!"

"Is that the time? Samurai hakama! I've lost two perfectly good drinking hours! Quick, let's go!"

He ran off into the kitchen and there was a frantic slamming of cupboard doors and anguished howling.

I stepped up from the entryway, kicked off my sandals, put down my bag, unzipped my dress and shimmied out of it. It pooled in a green circle at my feet. I picked it up, shook it out, folded it and lay it atop the bag.

I adjusted my remaining clothing, struck a suitable pose… and waited.

"Ah, no, there's only two cans chilled! I need to get into the garage and get another box."

He came out of the kitchen and turned away from me, heading for the back door. He turned as he grabbed the handle.

"Wait there, I'll be back in a m…"

He stopped, one finger pointed at me.

I wiggled my hips a little.

He turned and came towards me.

"Well, _you_ don't look like you're suffering extreme trauma and in need of Asaba Snuggles Inc."

"As it happens, Asapin, I am. What you see here is a girl who very much needs Asaba Snuggles Inc. In fact I think I need the Special Extra Service."

"You talked to Maho?"

"I did."

"She turned you down."

He was suddenly sombre.

"She did."

"Gomen. But… you did it. You finally talked to her. I'm proud of you."

"I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep on at her. Chipping away. I've decided."

"That's good. If nothing else, if you're feeling down you can always come round here for a Special Extra Service."

"You're very kind. I'd like that. But I think I could get her to see things my way. Eventually."

"The old Ryusaki charm, hm?"

"Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Did it?" he looked puzzled. I think I'd lost him, "So, I didn't ask. Why are you stood in my entryway wearing a smile, a very nice tan and a very small and very suggestive bikini?"

"You paid for it. I thought you might like to see me in it. And. I thought you might like to put some oil on me. Again."

"Oh, right. Sure. Only you do realise you're a _little_ over dressed?"

"Let's walk before we can run, hm?"

"Speaking of which I need to walk over to the garage and get more beer."

"No, you need to _run_. Over to the garage. The mood I'm in I think by the time you walk there and back, I might have polished off the two cans you've got cold up here."

I smiled at him. He pointed at me.

"Hold that thought."

He went.

I lifted my head from my left palm, took my left elbow off the wall and stood upright, dropping my right hand from my hip. I went into his kitchen. Considering what a good cook he was I was surprised he could live in such squalor. It was only a small house so that was even less reason to let it go to rack and ruin.

The place seemed to consist of just a kitchen/diner and living room downstairs. And upstairs… I couldn't remember. A bathroom and toilet of course but maybe only two bedrooms. It was newish but while Asapin was a boy who prided himself on his appearance, he clearly wasn't fussed about the state of the place he lived in.

The kitchen in particular surprised me. Weren't chefs or cooks supposed to care about food hygiene or something?

I felt vaguely uncomfortable walking barefoot in here. He needed a cleaning lady.

- - - oOo - - -

I've still not got to like the taste of beer. I doubt I ever will. I'm slowly coming round to enjoy it's effects though.

I'd chugged most of a can by the time he'd come back in, split open the fresh box and stuffed the contents in the fridge.

Was I drinking to drown my sorrows?

Probably.

But I knew there was still something. Some chance. Some narrow way to walk.

Those looks I had caught on Maho's face more than once.

That caring, tender, helpless girl. She was in there, somewhere.

That helplessness especially. People just don't go around with that look on their face if they're in happy secure loving relationships.

_Something_ was going on there. _Something_ was bothering her.

That day at Shibuya. That morning at Yukino's when I'd left with Tsubasa. That night she'd held me.

_Something_ was there.

_Someone _inside her.

I didn't know who she was but I was going to find her.

I was going to find that someone and draw her out.

But today.

Today I wanted something else.

I wanted to put all that away for a while and just…

I'd come here for two things and two things only.

To see if my exorcism of yesterday had worked. Had I driven out the demon? Would that sick bastard who rode my left shoulder finally shut up? Could I now get close to a boy?

And secondly, if I couldn't, well, Asaba Cuddles Inc. was always so lovely to be able to fall back on. Although how this poor tortured boy would react if I fell apart on him a third time, I didn't want to think about. Kind though he was, everyone had their breaking point.

"You need to clean this kitchen."

"Low priority."

"Raise it then. You'll get roaches in here soon. It smells."

"It does?"

"Yes, it does. I'll clean it if you won't."

"Oh?" he looked at me over his beer can, "now? While I work on my tan a little more?"

"No. Not now. Now is sunbathing. Tomorrow."

"Oh," he smiled again, "You're planning to go all the way home on the train and come back tomorrow?"

"Nope," I said, emptying the first can and placing it artfully atop a huge pile of rubbish that I think was once a pedal bin.

I gave him a wide smile and went close to him, opened the fridge and reached for a second can.

I cracked it open and warm, gave it to him. I took the cold one from his hand.

"I'll clean this kitchen if… hm, what does the Asaba Snuggles Inc. Special Extra Service include?"

He told me.

"How many times?" I asked.

He told me that as well. There was an Executive Platinum Option too, he said.

"It sounds a little like an endurance test. I'll need _some_ energy tomorrow to clean up in here… But I'll try the full package, and in return, clean your disgusting roachy kitchen."

"In the nude."

I arched an eyebrow at him.

"You're pushing your luck. Pervert."

"In return I'll cook dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow."

"In here?" I wiped a finger along the worktop distastefully.

"There's cereal and milk in the fridge."

"Cereal? For dinner?"

"Alright. I'll get a take away. Damn, you're a hard woman."

"It's whether or not you're a hard man that interests me."

"Shall we sunbathe then?"

"Hm, that sounds moderately agreeable."

Despite it being such a small property with a small garden, it did have high hedges all around and the surrounding properties were set back on their plots in such a way that even the loft conversions couldn't see into this garden. The sun would go off it of course by mid afternoon except, as now, while it was still summer.

There was a paved path along the back of the building. To the left it accessed the back door of the garage, to the right behind the kitchen it widened into a small patio area where there was a table and chairs and beyond this it ended at the right hand hedge. By walking along this path and turning left at the end and across the lawn you reached a secluded grassy area that was completely private.

He'd put a water feature here - just a pump circulating so that the water chuckled calmingly over stones, and a wind chime. He brought out an armful of towels and other bits and pieces.

He spread everything out and I sat down. He stood, unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. I watched. Well I had to, didn't I? He undid the waist cord of the shorts and slid them down. He was just so completely relaxed about it. Half eleven in the morning in full daylight without even any romance in the air. In one way I admired his sheer nerve and in another way I was actually shocked. He didn't try to hide anything, but sat down next to me, reached for his beer and raised it.

"Cheers."

"Indeed."

"I'm embarrassing you."

"A little. More beer might help."

"You've seen it all before."

"Not in broad daylight, in the cold, so to speak."

"I can warm you up a little then, if that's the problem."

"No, I'm fine right now."

I couldn't tear my eyes away. He was just so… _rude_. I'd never even _thought_ about doing things like this, so handling it was way beyond my grasp at the moment. Ha, ha, that was a terrible pun.

It was funny, too. Here, right next to me, was one of the most sought after bodies in the whole school. And me, back in March, a plain, overweight, spotty nobody. How my classmates would envy me. How they would, if they had the opportunity, murder me and put me under the patio just for five minutes in my place. How, if I ever told them, would they so not believe me. How I wished for a camera, so while they were laughing I could coolly flip the print at them and walk away.

I put my sunglasses on, undid the neck cord of the white bikini top and tucked the strings away at the sides. I lay down.

For a while it was quiet, but I was acutely conscious of my body, and of his, right next to me.

I closed my eyes and let the wonderful heat of the sun seep into me, the warmth seemingly spreading over and into my flesh and my muscles like a kind of sleep potion. An erotic sleep potion. I dozed a little.

My thoughts kept straying to my flesh and his flesh, side by side. In my minds eye I saw him, lying there, his beauty on display. He _was_ beautiful. Arima and he were acknowledged by almost all the girls (and a good number of the boys) to be the two best looking boys in the school. It wasn't like I'd spent a _long_ time looking at Asapin, but from the few minutes I'd had the other morning, and from the times at the beach, I knew his position as Beautiful Boy #2 (or #1 depending on whose opinion you sought) was well deserved.

With eyes tight shut I saw his chest. Smooth and oiled and broad and tanned. Long arms, deep tough muscles on them. Above, his neck, the cords of flesh strongly defining it where it rose from his shoulders. Those shoulders… broad. Strong. And below. The stomach. Muscled and hard. And exquisitely flat. And below that…

- - - oOo - - -

I was hot.

The sun was a killer today.

My skin tingled painfully.

I turned over onto my front.

That was when I first noticed it.

It was unmistakeable.

My crotch, as I lay on my front, as it pressed down onto the grass beneath the towel.

I could feel the warmth there, a heat not caused by the sun.

I wiggled my hips a little, rubbing myself against the grass.

Mmm, nice.

I'd been dreaming.

I'd been walking along Kamakura beach.

It was deserted, not a soul on it. Wide and flat and empty.

For miles.

The sun was going down, warm, like a caress. There was no breeze.

Strangely the sun was setting out over the sea, in the south. But no matter. The acres of liquid gold it spilled towards me over the ocean were still beautiful.

The day was ending. Time was moving on. Running out.

Time to decide.

The tide seemed a long way out. Ankle deep water seemed to lie on the sand creating shallows that ran out for ever.

I was walking in these shallows, my feet warmed by the water, warm as bath water.

I was naked.

Someone was beside me.

I couldn't see their face, even if I turned to look at them somehow their face was hidden.

I wasn't even sure if it was a boy or a girl.

I think this person had breasts but then again maybe they didn't, maybe they had, you know, one of _those_. Down there.

How odd.

How childish of me.

Embarrassed to name it, even in my own dreams. How more private a place can there be?

A penis.

There, I'd said it.

And then again, sometimes when I looked at my companion they seemed to have both, to be a boy and girl combined in one.

Or neither, like a store mannequin.

I couldn't tell.

We didn't speak, we didn't touch.

We just walked in companionable silence.

Yet I knew exactly what they were thinking. And they knew what I was thinking.

It became almost a conversation, but then, perhaps it was more like we each had a movie of our thoughts playing in our heads and we were each watching the other.

"I love this place, this warmth, this person," I thought.

"I like this girl, this life, these meetings," they thought.

"Which one of the you is the one I want?" I thought.

"You are like the other people I know, yet different," they thought.

"Which one of the you do I commit too?" I thought.

"Which do I want to be with? That man who enthrals me and is so other worldly? Who is unlike anyone I have met before?" They thought.

"If you are a girl, I know you're right for me. I want you for ever. To devote myself to you, to love and protect you. To even be on my knees and serve you. In a beautiful way. Your companion," I thought.

"Which do I want to be with? The girl I know well, who is quirky and new and whose strange offer moves heat within me, making something grow. Something I didn't know was there? Something new and a little wicked?" They thought.

"If you are a boy, I know I want you, but it's a different wanting. It's a form of proving something to myself. I'd love to love you but I can't. But instead I still crave you, only not your heart. I want to be on my knees before you and to serve you. But in a dirty way," I thought.

"You are unlike those I can meet any day of the week and who will be beautiful, will give me brief pleasure and ask no questions, but leave my bed empty in the morning. Although I can make you like that, make use of you like that. I think you would like to be used, wouldn't you?" They thought.

"Yes," I thought.

"Who do I want?" They thought.

"Which are you?" I thought.

"Which would you rather I was?" They thought.

"What do I want from my communion with you?" I thought.

"Which is it fairest that you are? Is it unfair to betray him, whom I love and who has changed my world. Or is it fairest that you become like the others, whom I merely use and cast aside?" They thought.

- - - oOo - - -

I opened my eyes.

No change.

Still Asapin's garden. Still me on the grass.

Kamakura beach had gone.

Still that rosy insistent delicious heat in my middle.

And now a less rosy, sharper more unpleasant heat on my shoulders, my legs.

Ow. Sunburn.

I raised myself on my elbows.

He was watching me.

He had propped his head up on one elbow, was lying on his side.

And was watching me.

"Are you watching me?" I asked the stupidly obvious question.

"Does that bother you?"

"No."

_It's nice. What were you thinking though? Perverted thoughts I don't doubt._

"I think it does."

"No it doesn't."

"Your tone of voice says different."

"Alright, it bothers me. I'm sixteen, inexperienced, wearing almost nothing and at a boys house alone with him and he just happens to be stark naked lying beside me and watching me while I sleep. Does that answer your question?"

"It does. Perfectly. But I was just looking at your skin. You're going to burn."

"You'd better do what that pervy mind of yours has been wanting to do since we came out here then."

"Wanting to touch you isn't pervy. It's perfectly natural. And in your case, you lovely thing, perfectly understandable."

"I am impervious to your insincere words."

"How about my fingers? Are you impervious to them?"

"I am if they're insincere."

"Let me do something then. And you can tell me if they're insincere or not. Shall I do that?"

I turned back to the towel, lay face down again.

"Yes. Onegai."

_Here we go._

"Shoulders mostly," I suggest, "And my calves."

"I was just going to do it all."

There is a hint in his voice. A hint that 'all' might actually mean 'all'.

I lie and wonder how this will go.

I think this is it, the beginning of it.

Again, as before, he begins with my feet, the soles of my feet. He presses his fingers there, massaging me even there. His thumbs firmly into me, making me grunt with the pressure. His slippery fingers divide my toes and massage between them.

This is not necessary.

That much is obvious.

This isn't oiling me to protect my skin from the sun.

This is something else.

This isn't something you do on a beach with dozens of people around. This is something you do in private.

And already I'm starting to go. He's only done my feet and already I'm on my way, climbing that gentle slope.

He puts a lot of oil on my calves where I know my skin is reddening. He spends ages there, again and again, layer on layer.

Backs of knees. Hmmm… little girl hollows they are. He spends time on them like I think he loves all the hollows a girl has. Like the dips above my collarbones where his tongue loves to explore. Or my ears.

Hmm, ears. Don't get me started on ears.

Up the backs of my thighs, firm hands both spreading the oil and invigorating the flesh. He puts one palm over the other, ten fingers interlaced and, applying delicious pressure he sweeps his hands up my oily skin.

The kitten is back.

I'm purring.

He applies oil around my hips but leaves my bottom untouched. The insides of my thighs too.

I guess why.

I guess he's going to come back to that.

"If my hands are insincere, you'll be able to keep quiet. It'll be easy. If they are sincere, though, you won't be able to. I guarantee it."

"You're very full of yourself."

"I'm just telling you. You don't need to tell me. I will know. You don't like this? Then just don't make a sound."

_So, you want a battle of wills?_

_Okay then._

The part of my back below my narrow waist. The flare of my hips. He oils me there a long time, reaching down into the narrow dip of me and out, pushing interlaced fingers heavily across the skin. He does the sides too, the sides of my hips. He avoids the upper part of my bottom.

He shifts on his knees, turns to face the other way.

My mind is jangling. Wondering what he looks like. How it hangs. Is he hard yet? Thoughts, hot and eager tumbling over and over.

"Arms by your side."

I obey.

And now my arms, he does these quickly although he spends time on my hands, sliding his fingers between mine. Spreading them.

God, that's a lovely word.

He presses my palms, like the soles of my feet, he pays a lot of attention there.

His fingers untie my bikini string.

"Push yourself up on your elbows."

It's not a request.

A silent moan rumbles inside me and I obey him.

I rise up. The bikini top stays on the towel. He removes it and I sense him throw it well out of reach. Now there is no escape.

"Down."

I lie down.

He's giving orders. I love him giving me orders.

I purr more, but silently inside myself. I'm giving nothing away.

Oil is poured on my back.

Now he does what he does best. A full back massage.

I lie there, helpless with pleasure.

He is so good at this. Indecently good.

If he was one of those guys who does this in the Ginza boutiques, in the private rooms, it would be heavenly. So relaxing.

But because it's here, outdoors in the hot sun, and I'm almost naked, and he's completely naked and I know that this is going to end at one destination and one only… it's much more than relaxing.

It's gorgeous. It's sensual. It's making me climb that steepening slope a little faster. Eagerly I climb it, wanting to see the view from the top. I feel my heart beating a little more quickly, the climber ascends the hill, muscles and body working harder. Warming up.

His hands pound me, pressing, kneading. His fingers and thumbs find my neck and shoulder muscles and work away at them, unknotting, easing them.

"Oh."

"What?"

"Hm, nothing."

He makes no reply, he merely keeps working. I imagine him smiling though.

Damn, I nearly spoke, admitted it was good.

Five minutes go by in which I change from a relaxed slightly aroused girl into a completely ready girl. His hands on me have done what he wanted to do. He has won. I'm defeated. I'm _available_.

He could flip me over right now and do whatever he wants, I'd not lift a finger to stop him. God, I wouldn't want to stop him.

This special girl he meets one day.

Wow, she's going to be one lucky cow.

He finishes.

"Raise up again, on your elbows."

A jet of breath gushes out of me, nostrils flaring.

Yes.

He moves, he puts one leg over me. He's kneeling astride me. And then, right at the top of my legs and between them something searing hot is there, hotter than the sun. It has weight and firmness and it lays in that cleft very close to the place I want it.

I think, given not very much longer.

Where I'll be begging him to put it.

His hands come gently and slippery on my sides above my waist. Lots of oil.

I drip with it, I'm slick with it.

His hands move up.

And up.

My eyes are shut tight.

And up.

And around.

And under.

I raise myself higher, sending him the only message he needs.

_I want this_, I'm telling him.

I look down at myself, see my soft places dangling. The points of them are burning. I see his fingers moving around and up. They touch the very lowest curve of me and stop. They sweep from side to side against my undercurve and all of me wobbles and sways and sings with pleasure.

His fingers feel the springy liquid softness of me. What does it feel like to him, I wonder?

I can't bear it any longer.

He's too good.

Far too teasing.

It comes. I don't want it to come. I'm fighting it not to come but I can't help it. The moan comes, the sighing growling gentle animal noise that tells him.

Tells him he's done it.

Again.

Brought me here, far up the slope now. Soon the climb will get seriously steeper. It'll be hard work. It'll make me sweat. But the view from the top. God how much I want to see it, experience it.

Still he teases, and still that searing iron is pressing into me down there.

"So. You're agreed."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, your fingers are sincere. And no, I'm not impervious to them."

I'm gasping, my breathing heavy, hoarse.

"I'm pleased. I'm pleased that I please you."

"You're a very naughty boy. How did you learn to do this?"

"Some of the girls I have known. They were older than me. Much wiser. Some were lovely teachers. They taught me a lot of lovely lessons. And you. Now I'm passing on what I know. So you, when you meet someone inexperienced can make them feel this way."

_Maho._

What I would give to be in this position with her now and have her moaning beneath me, brought to the point of madness by my teasing touch. One day…

"And of course… it's better with you."

"It is? How?"

"You play the game so well. The other night, when you asked me to – _do things_ – to you?"

"Yes."

"That excited me."

"Oh."

"Do you want that now, those things? Those games?"

My heart was hammering, my belly was burning and my nipples aching. Quite frankly I didn't care what he did or how he did it as long as this gorgeous boy did _something_, and did it _right now_.

Someone else answered him. It wasn't me. I just wanted someone in control. Take control of my broken life and tell me how to fix it. But lacking that, take control of my body and make it writhe. Tell me what to do. If I can do something, anything that pleases you, I will be happy.

I think that, right there and right then was my personal definition of submission.

No matter what you do to me, or make me do to you, or even to myself, if it pleases you I will do it, gladly and with a singing heart.

It was certainly what I wanted.

If my sexuality was screwed up, quite frankly, right then, right there, in Asapin's garden with him naked and kneeling astride me and my body aching to be touched… if this was perverted then I didn't give a damn. All I knew was that this was what I wanted.

And the most wonderful thing was – it burst inside my head in a brilliant flash of joy and release – I trusted him. Here was a person behind me, almost touching me _there_, where my brother had. I was facing away from him, just as I'd been that day, I was helpless against his strong presence and his powerful experience. Asapin could do _anything_ to me in the next few minutes. And I mean _anything_. And yet, and yet. I wanted him to. Because I absolutely trusted him to do only good things. Even if they were bad, I knew they'd be good, if that makes sense.

Because this situation he had created this day was so different from what I had experienced five years ago. Then it had been horrible. I had been frightened, confused, embarrassed, in pain. He had been dirty, smelly, angry, disgusting, rough. Today was the polar opposite of that. This boy behind me was beautiful. He was gorgeous, not just to look upon and touch and taste (yes, I wanted to do that, taste him) but his mind was gorgeous too, his happy, fun loving spirit, his outrageous, infectious approach to life and women. Everything about him was the opposite of _then_, The Incident. He was clean, sweet smelling, caring, smooth, gentle, strong, kind, willing, funny, beautiful, sexy.

My senses suddenly went into gorgeous violent overload. I had an almost religious experience of wonder and joy. Today was the day. _Today_ it would happen. I knew it would. This was going to be so good, so wonderful, everything would be beautiful.

I lay there, under him, gasping with release as a huge dark weight lifted from my mind and my heart and swept up into the sky and away. And I was left with just my soul and my need and my respect for him and the calm knowledge that this boy and I were about to do something truly divine.

And whether there would be what some people might call perverted acts involved, I didn't care. For me, that day, everything was wonderful and right.

I became at peace.

And the person who answered him wasn't me.

Not the old me.

Not the me who had laboured for years under darkness and loneliness and pain.

A new me.

A transformed me, a me free of guilt and oppression. It was like seeing Maho's beautiful garden. A thousand blooms filled this new me with their scent, blossoming inside me.

And this new me said.

"Yes."

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you want. Do anything you want to me. Play those games with me. Take charge. Make me obey you. I trust you completely."

His hands on me stopped moving. He bent and his mouth was by my ear. At the tops of my legs his wonderful hardness dug into me.

"Are you alright? Is everything okay? You sound different."

"I'm fine. Wonderful. I never felt like this. I'm so excited. Something beautiful just happened. I'll tell you later, but right now… everything is fine. You excite me so much. Asapin, onegai, do whatever you like to me. I want it."

"Do you want this?"

His hands, slick with oil, moved. They crept up, agonizingly slowly over where I curved. Where I was soft he applied pressure, strong pressure. Enough to crush me flat. Tightly he held me, pressing me beautifully hard against my ribs.

His fingers reached my nipples and his fingernails scraped over them and a desperate groaning cry came gurgling out of me.

"Yes."

"This?"

His fingers came around me tightly onto my two hot stiff burning places and pinched, released, pinched again, released.

"Uhn, yes."

Then more tightly still until I cried out, and then.

Twisting, twisting them, side to side making two needles of sharp sweet agony dart inside me and shoot down to my groin.

"This?"

"Uhhrrr…ysss…"

My forehead sank onto the towel between my forearms. My hands became fists clutching, clutching. I could make no coherent answer.

The sound he drew from me was enough to tell him.

The hoarse groaning sound of a person being driven towards that place, that perfect place where nothing needs a reason, where events cease to have a sequence, where time stops yet everything happens at once and all things go in all directions.

But he wasn't taking me there yet. Not yet. He wanted me to see so much more of this climb yet, this mountainside I now clung to and desperately fought to scale.

"Are you happy with this?"

"Oh, _yes_. You… _baka_! Can't you tell?"

"I want to touch you where I did before. But if you get a bad feeling… well, I want to stop before then… I don't want to hurt you again today, to drag bad stuff up."

"Today is different. Yesterday with Maho, I got a lot of bad stuff out of my system. So, do whatever you want to me, touch wherever you like. I want your fingers on me. And… in me. And your mouth. Onegai…"

"What?"

"Kiss me…"

His face came close again and I turned my head around and up to him as far as I could go, shifting one shoulder higher to let him get at my mouth. And he touched me, pressed against me. It's the simplest thing, a kiss, just two mouths touching yet the act of it causes in me such rushing whirling feelings. My whole body sings, my heart flutters and when his tongue pushes against me and demands entry and I weakly, moaning, submit to it and let it come bursting into me, its wet heat writhing in me and turning me into a helpless gasping thing… Then a kiss becomes something of total wonder, total and pure joy. I love his kisses, they drive me on so much faster. He kisses like he wants me to ride him, its that kind of kiss. Dirty. Raging. Hot. Hard.

I've yet to be kissed chastely by him. I don't think I want to be. The way he kisses is another part of how I want him to use me. I love the rude urgent rush he causes in me with his mouth.

He took his mouth away and at once I longed for it to come back.

"I have to finish putting oil on you. We can't have you burning in the sun."

_Too late, much too late, I'm already ablaze._

His weight shifted and he moved off me. I lowered myself back to the towel and closed my eyes, waiting for what was to come next.

Fingers at the side strings of my bikini briefs, undoing one side, the other. I parted my legs a little, lifted my hips and he drew the garment away, threw it aside. For a moment, nothing. No movement, no touch.

My eyes screwed tight, I imagine his open, looking, enjoying what he sees.

Then his hands again on me, high on the sides of my legs, slippery with oil, moving up and onto me, over and holding me, caressing.

And he gets to work.

And I flow away into a dream.

For a while he's the professional masseur again, he doesn't touch anywhere he shouldn't (unless you think it unusual that a girl should be naked and having her bottom caressed in your average massage). Then.

"Open your legs."

I do so, my ankles are eighteen inches apart.

A stinging slap and I gasp and squirm at the sharpness.

"No. More."

I give him more. He slaps me again, the other cheek. This one is harder and my cry more raw.

"Wider. And tilt your hips a little, lift your bottom."

I obey. I want to obey. I'm wide open now and he must be able to see everything. Face pressed into my hands, I can feel it turning pink with heat.

I've never been so open, no-one has looked at me like this.

His fingers return, on the inside of my legs, sweeping higher, firmly, slowly.

I whimper in expectation but he stops, the hand withdraws. Then it's back, the other leg, he teases me again and again I respond with breathy rasping need. I'm wet. I can feel my core melting.

What can he see? What must the view be like? I can only guess. I'm lucky in a way, There's no hair at all under there. A little on the front but behind and beneath, nothing. So he can see everything.

His hands come back onto my bottom, one on each side. He caresses again for a while then suddenly pulls me widely open. Again, face down, I stuff towel into my mouth and bite it as his thumbs come together and begin to slide down. Down. Exquisitely between…

I'm going now, I'm leaving. I can't stay here, my need won't let me. The hot tight whirling thing that has been building in my middle has to escape, has to take flight. I find my head jerking back, mouth open and merely moaning now, the word 'yes' repeating on my lips.

His thumbs come down, over that place he touched before. He stops a moment and applies a little swirling pressure, then a little more. I don't want his fingers there, not yet. Later, another time.

I want to experience that with him. I do. Because I trust him. Implicitly. Completely.

_Penetrate me there._

But not yet, not now.

"Lower. Onegai…"

I manage to gasp my last request before the world turns ragged and red and lurches suddenly upwards under me pressing into me exactly where I need it. I need all of it there and it comes against me there where I'm ablaze. I don't understand what's happening now and don't want to, this feeling must be his fingers, sliding onto me and into me and spearing me but I no longer care.

All I care about is this feeling. When I do it alone it's sharp and fast and happens quickly and is soon over. I enjoy it but it's a thing that doesn't last. But this time, this first time with him doing it, its new and wholly different. It builds more slowly and arrives later, the build up itself is as good as the peak I can create on my own. But when I struggle and groaning and sweating lift my aching body those last few steps up this mountain and reach the summit and stand there and the view before me opens out and is a hot sunlit place, then this, this is different to anything that's gone before.

On my imaginary mountain top I collapse to my knees, thankful and blessed and delivered up to a feeling like no other. Heat comes, light comes, bright sensation comes, everything comes bursting over me and into me. Eyes shut, head thrown back I grit my teeth and whine as the world ends around me and in me.

I have this strange sensation of moving. I'm moving back there. I've bent my knees and lifted my bottom and my body is jerking again and again onto his fingers, back and forth trying to get him more inside me, more tightly against me. He fills me and lower, something grinds hard against the vital tiny part of me and I finish in a powerful whining gasping rush. I collapse back to the grass, twitching and moaning and happy, chewing my knuckles.

It's quiet, and his warmth is against me. His stomach and chest press to my side, his arm comes across my shoulders, caresses, slides down my back. It measures my dipping waist and comes to rest on my white bottom, two white parts where the sun hasn't turned me brown. He pats me, like a happy owner pats a doggie who has just fetched a stick and been a good boy.

His arm comes back up and across my shoulders pulls me to him in the afterwards hug I exactly need.

I roll on my side, my face to him.

I press close. It's what I need.

He is smiling.

"Better?"

I smile back, push myself up on my elbow and kiss him.

"Arigato gozaimasu. Arigato gozaimasu. Arigato gozaimasu. You are beautiful. You are beautiful to me."

"My pleasure."

"Can I do something? For you…?"

"Not yet. In a while. I enjoy watching."

"What was I like. To watch?"

He smiled again. Kissed me.

"It was worth the wait. Worth the wasted evenings. I'm so pleased you could finally relax."

"Arigato. You're the best person for putting on sun tan oil I know."

I hug him. Hug tightly.

It's over.

A man has brought me to that lovely place for the first time ever, and I'm happy.

Now I can put aside the fear, the doubt, the garbage and the clutter.

Now, I can enjoy myself.

I want to. I so much want to.

Make up for lost time.

- - - oOo - - -

_25 - 27 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Five, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	46. Something Else I Really Wanted To Do

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Six – Something Else I Really Wanted To Do**

"_One thing you are __not__, Ryusaki Sakana, is boring."_

- Asaba Hideaki, July 1995

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

A while later he went inside and came back with two more beers.

I was dozing on my front at the time. He didn't put anything on. I know because I checked.

Call me a prude but I'm not quite ready for that yet. In the privacy of my own home, on my own, fine. But not in front of someone else, not yet. Not just walking about brazenly like that.

I am still shy, although you might not think so given what I've told you has been going on recently but I still had inhibitions about being undressed with him like this. Especially out of doors. It just felt strange. Yes, it felt nice having the sun on me and the gentle breeze. It was all very new, very wonderful but very strange too.

With the beers he brought a large bag of potato chips. It's traditional and the socially correct thing to offer guests something to eat, no matter what the time of day, usually cake or something sweet.

I wasn't too happy about eating anything he might have prepared in that kitchen and potato chips, while the equivalent of him wearing a card sign round his neck proclaiming **LAZY SLOB**, would at least come out of a factory sealed bag and soak up the beer, of which this would be my third.

You know quite well what too much alcohol does to me.

It makes me relaxed then quite silly, uninhibited and well, rude. And after that it makes me very cross with myself and embarrassed. And tends to Comprehensively Ruin My Day.

Trying to strike a balance around the uninhibited and just into the rude part of the cycle was where I was aiming but without knowing how five shots of rum compared to three cans of beer I was shooting in the dark mostly.

I decided to drink until it felt nice then simply stop.

He returned and lay next to me.

I was still on my front. He'd put all that effort into oiling my back so it seemed rude not to make use of all that carefully applied oil.

An hour went by in which not much happened except it got hotter and hotter.

He very kindly put more oil on my bottom. The skin wasn't used to the sun so it needed it. But he was nice and didn't do anything pervy. I lay there and just enjoyed the contact. It was so nice to have a person do that for me.

Maybe this is what marriage is like?

I was roasting. I knelt up and took a long drink of beer.

Hm, warm. Bleurgh.

I looked at him, lying on his back, his arms behind his head.

I thought it was time I did something for him.

I picked up the bottle of oil and poured a drizzle of it across his chest and down his stomach.

"Oi!" he started in surprise, "Cold."

"Gomen. May I? Do you mind?"

"Do I mind?" he rolled his eyes, untucked one arm from behind his head and waved it decorously, "Does Asaba Hideaki mind a naked cutie pouring oil on his chest and rubbing it in? If you're going to take money from my wallet _that's_ the time to ask if I mind. What you're doing… well," he shrugged, grinned, "be my guest."

I didn't really know what to do, I just wanted to do _something_ for him, because he deserved it, because he'd done such nice things for me.

For a while I just smoothed oil over his lovely hard chest and stomach and arms and shoulders. I think perhaps this was doing me more good than him. It was the first time I'd properly touched him. It felt good, _he_ felt good. He was amazingly firm all over, I could feel the muscles under the flesh, the warm soft flesh was like a shallow coating and under it he was all hard maleness. It made me feel nice, glowing nice, just to feel him. He was just nice to touch.

"Be careful," he intoned solemnly, "We don't want you getting too excited and burning out from lust overload. This is the finest chest on the planet you're touching."

I had to disagree. Maho easily held that title.

I did notice though that his nipples had got hard. A good sign. That pleased me. I was doing something right.

I wanted more. I knew what I wanted to do. I moved down his body a little way and facing his head swung one leg over him so I was sat astride his thighs.

Mmm, this was nice. A very nice view.

I knelt up and forwards and over him and supporting myself palms flat on the ground either side of his head I kissed him. It felt strange to be above him and being the instigator of the kiss. He didn't do anything, I think he was waiting to see what I did. His mouth was relaxed, lips parted but he was watching me, watching what I did.

As he had done I drew his lower lip into my mouth and nibbled it, chewed it gently, then his upper lip kissing that. I just spent a while experimenting, seeing what I could do, how it tasted and how he reacted. He was playing it cool, I wasn't getting a reaction yet. (I know, I glanced down under me).

I drew his lower lip into my mouth again, sucking it, and caressed it with my tongue.

Hm, small, warm, nice buzzy things were happening in me so I hoped they were for him too.

I opened my mouth and ran my tongue along his lips, wetting them, painting them with my saliva.

He moved one arm out from behind his head, lifted it and with his palm cupped me where I was soft and hung down. I hesitated. I stiffened between his fingers, he rolled the nipple a little and I wondered if he wanted me to stop.

"Carry on. You're doing fine."

I did, pushing my tongue against his teeth which he obligingly parted for me. I pushed into him and his tongue was there waiting. We came together, wetness and muscle and flavour and scent and once again, as with every time his mouth is on me, it began to feel very good, very good indeed.

His hand moved to the other breast and teased that, cupping, squeezing, worrying the tingling stiff end of it.

And then I felt it. Hot and hard and nudging my stomach.

I broke the kiss. Enough. I sat back on his legs. I looked at him.

Oh my God. He was… wow.

"Did I do that?"

"You did. All by yourself. Aren't you clever?"

"You're making fun of me."

"I'll stop. But you shouldn't. Why don't you finish what you've started?"

His hardness lay upright, beyond the vertical, pointing up his stomach.

To me he seemed big but with no other experience to measure against I had no idea what was considered big and what wasn't. But he was a tall person so I assumed this was above average, but really, who can tell? All I could do was imagine _that _inside me… and therefore he looked big. How does it fit? Girls must be very stretchy inside.

And I squirmed a little, thinking about that.

What I really wanted to do was see what it felt like to touch.

I put my hand on his stomach, low down and stroked him, stroked down and around to his thighs. He was very warm and deliciously firm everywhere.

I reached for the bottle of oil and let some run onto him, onto the part of him that was standing up. And then I put my hand on him.

I was amazed how hard he was. It wasn't solid but he was harder than I'd imagined.

It moved about though, it _hinged._ It was rigid but had a flexible base it seemed. I suppose so it doesn't snap off if a girl moves about a lot.

A funny image came to me and a laugh snickered out unbidden.

"Glad to see I'm entertaining you."

"Oh, gomen nasai. I didn't mean… It was just…"

I slid my hands around and up and down. I watched his face. He'd put his head to one side and was looking down at me. His expression was quite neutral, his eyelids partly closed.

"Is it alright? Am I doing right?"

"You're doing very well. Just do whatever you like. Investigate. Explore."

"Have you ever had a girl touch you before who'd not done it?"

"Yes."

"Am I like her?"

"You're like you. Just you. Don't be so eager to compare yourself with others. Don't be so eager to show me you've got a complex."

"I've not got a complex."

"You'll get one if you go through life asking am I like her or like her?"

I leaned forward and kissed his mouth again briefly.

"I like you," I smiled at him.

"That's lucky, seeing as you are where you are and you're doing what you're doing."

"I like doing this too. I've decided."

I went back to work. Underneath him were the other bits. It was interesting, fascinating, strange, new. I slid an oily hand under here and lifted and caressed and weighed him. This part of him was soft and it all moved around in a bag of skin. It was just so weird. What was it like having this stuff hanging there all the time? Like… uh, I don't know, like a bunch of grapes or something. Walking, running, sitting down. Didn't it ever get trapped or squished? I couldn't imagine it. Girls are a completely sensible shape there, perfect for athletics or swimming or just sitting down. But with this great load of _stuff_ flopping about all the time… it was a wonder nothing got damaged. Or pulled off.

He made a noise.

"Gomen, did I hurt you?"

"No, it's fine."

His face was red. He had closed his eyes. I saw he had a light sweat on his forehead. All I was doing was running my left hand slowly up and down the length and my right was just rummaging about down below, feeling the weight of things, feeling the firmness of the two parts inside him.

He made another noise. It sounded a little like a cough or a raspy clearing of the throat.

Was I?

Wow, was I doing that?

Was I exciting him?

Whatever I was doing, it seemed he liked it.

There was something else I wanted to do. I really, really wanted to do this. I'd wanted to do this the first time we'd slept together at my house but then the mood had gone all wrong. But now…

I wiggled my hips and bottom back a little, making room. Then I bent forward and held him in place. I brought my face very close to the end of him. And stopped. With my right hand I kept massaging the bag of him underneath.

I looked up.

He was watching me intently.

"Do you want me to…?" I asked, smiling innocently at him.

This time there was no casual bravado, no _You're doing very well. Just do whatever you like. _This time, just one word, spoken very quietly.

"Yes."

I put out my tongue, almost touched. Then drew it back.

"Ask nicely," I grinned.

"Yes, onegai."

I looked from his face to the head of him. With my left hand gripping tightly I pulled down hard and the skin covering him slid tightly back and down and left him exposed. At once a clear rivulet of fluid flowed out of him and onto my fingers.

_My God. He's gorgeous. What a beautiful looking thing. Heavenly. I wonder what it tastes like?_

Again, I asked.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Suck me."

"Hmm…" a buzzing moan of anticipation sizzled inside me. Hm, what a rude word that is.

I put out my tongue and licked the side of him above my fingers at the fluid that had gathered there. I tasted it. Nothing at all really, just suntan oil unfortunately.

I licked around him, part way up. Putting my lips to him, my tongue, even my nose. He smelled good. He had a vibrant tangy boy smell that went into me and filled a certain need. The chemicals his body was making and releasing. Their only function was to excite me. I circled round and round, my right hand still playing with him down below.

For the first time in my life I was licking a boy's… _thing_. It's funny, I don't come across as very shy right now, do I? But I am, and I always have trouble saying the word. It just seems so rude to say it. It embarrasses me. _Thing_ is a lot easier.

Underneath him was where the tube was, the tube up which his stuff came. I knew these things. The school library had some _very_ interesting books. And I'm not talking about the geography section either. This softer tube I could squeeze with my lips or my finger and press down with my tongue.

I chose not to nibble. Teeth might be taking things too far.

So far, although there was his delicious scent I couldn't taste anything but suntan oil.

I moved my head up. Right below the head I stopped again and looked up. He wasn't looking at me any more. His head was over to his right, neck back and his hands were by his sides the fingers digging deep into the towel, balling up great fists of it. His face and neck were flushed.

Wow. Oh, my. He looked like he was near death. Like a boy being electrocuted or something. Every muscle was tense.

I thought of asking him another teasing question but decided not to.

I put out my tongue and touched him, below the head, on the underside. And I licked upwards over the funny taut bit of linking skin and up the strange groove right under the head and then over, and lips wide, very wide onto him, moving down, letting him enter me, tongue swirling around and licking, lips touching.

For the first time. A boy in me.

Oh, yes. He tasted bitter, salty, a very strong tangy flavour. I'm going to be honest and say at first I didn't like it but I just let it happen. I moved my head down onto him. Far down. His end pressed against the back of my throat and my eyes stung and watered, I lifted off him, licked a little and went back. Then up again, then back.

It was nice. I was enjoying this. It was the smell of him mostly that was really sending me, it was really special, it overpowered me. That strong, masculine, dominant, powerful, musky scent. It made me feel weak. The bitter taste was irrelevant compared to that, I could put up with it.

On the very end was the small slit out of which he would – you know – erupt. I licked across that with the tip of my tongue a few times and he moaned, a deep bass guttural sound. I flickered my tongue rapidly across it. He moaned again, twitched. Hm, interesting reaction there. I was finding out what he liked, where the really sensitive places were.

I realised I was resting my weight on my elbows, one on his upper thigh, the other on his stomach but he didn't seem to mind. I kept my hands working too. I needed to know if this was right.

I lifted my head.

"Is this good? Is this right?"

He didn't answer. Well, he did, but not with words. Both his hands came up and onto the back of my head, gripping me, fingers lacing through my hair, and pushed my head back down. He didn't look up at all, it was an animal instinct thing.

He shoved my face down hard and his hardness dug back into my mouth, deep, more deeply than before. I retched and my eyes actually watered, I pulled back a little. His fingers in my hair almost pulled my head up, then pushed down again.

I gagged on him again.

And this, this animal gripping of my scalp, of thrusting me onto him, and the strength in his hands.

It made me go. It made me suddenly red hot and wanting him. It was so erotic. I was half way back up that gorgeous hill again. My belly pulsed and opened and made moisture.

But the thing was, the way he just pushed me down, it was a base thing, a primitive thing. He was gripping my hair, pulling up until my scalp tingled then pushing back down until I almost choked. And he kept doing it. And now his hips were jerking and his hardness was bumping up to meet my face.

I coughed, almost vomited but something kept me going.

Lust kept me going.

I wasn't a person to him anymore, I was an object. A mouth. A hole for him to thrust into.

He was groaning and moaning and I could feel his body thrumming and vibrating under me, taut and tensed up, every muscle singing. The moans in his chest vibrated through his hard belly and I felt the sounds through my hands.

I was enjoying this.

You must think me sick, to let him use me like this, hold me by force and thrust into me. But my confession is… it's how I like it.

And boy did I like it. God how I loved it. Submission. That was what this was. He was using me. I was simply an object he was using. I was gasping, not just with the effort of serving him but with heat and excitement. This was plain raw earthy sex, nothing more.

And God, how I needed it, how I wanted him to use me like this.

I took my hand off him between his legs and reached for my own breast, squeezing and pinching. My nipple was scalding hot and hard as a bullet. I pinched it.

It couldn't last, surely not. His hands gripped hard one final time, his hips lifted, I felt his legs vibrate under me and then a long loud groan came from him, climbing to a shout. He was deep in me, at the back of my throat, so deep I was tasting my own bile.

The hard hot wonderful thing in my mouth seemed to swell and then it pulsed, once and again and then a third time.

_In my mouth! Uh! Oh! I don't know if I can! Pull back! No! Get it out of me… I'm not ready…not for this…!_

Too late, heat filled my mouth, a gushing spurt of hot thick dense liquid, scalding me. The taste made me gag, it was very strong, sour, salty and quite unpleasant. I tried to get my head off him, but his hands gripped harder.

Part of me was trying to get away and part of me trying to swallow to get rid of it the other way. But his hands held me. I gurgled and gave up, he was too strong for me.

"Ah, yes, yes, Kanahrin, oh yes... God…! _Uuhhnnn_…!"

He shuddered and juddered and finished, his spine relaxed, his hips sank down, his fingers in my hair loosened.

I had no choice. I had been given none. He was still big inside me but he no longer held me down. I lifted my head and swallowed, but there was so much and I didn't like the taste.

But what I did like, what I _loved_, was what he'd done to me. I didn't mind the strong taste if I could bring him so much pleasure so quickly. How long? Not long. Maybe five minutes, surely not more than ten. I purred. Not so much because I'd enjoyed the actual act but because he had enjoyed using me. If I could serve him like that, give him so much pleasure so easily.

God, do it again. Use me again.

I lay on him a moment, one hand still gripping, his head still in my mouth. I licked around. Everywhere. Licked him clean, even down the sides where some had run out. I lay my head on his stomach and kissed him and snuggled close to him, my nose and mouth pressed to him.

Hmm, nice. I could curl up here and sleep.

He softened and reduced and I was sorry to see him go.

A hand came on my head, in my hair. It smoothed down to my jaw and cheek, lifted my head.

"Kanahrin, Kanahrin. Arigato gozaimasu. You were beautiful."

I looked up at him, my chin on his hard belly.

"Did I do that right?"

He shook his head as though in disbelief.

"Absolutely right, as right as it can be. Arigato gozaimasu."

I gave the now small him a last kiss on the end and knelt up.

I crawled up him and lay on his chest. He reached a finger and wiped my lip, my chin.

"What?"

"You missed a bit."

"Where?"

He wiped something else from my neck.

"Give me."

He held up his finger and I drew it into my mouth and sucked it clean.

"And that was your first time?"

"You know it was."

He shook his head again.

"What?"

"Arigato. I can't believe you've never done that before. You were fantastic."

He gave me a lovely hug, kissed my forehead.

"It was alright then?"

"Anta baka! Of course it was alright. It was marvellous. Some girls… just don't like doing that at all. Some don't even like putting their mouths there. You were…"

He trailed off.

I glowed. I snuggled against him happy. Happy that I could please him, happy that I did something that we both enjoyed, and happy that I could serve him that way.

"When you held my head, held me down…"

"Gomen, did I hurt you? Was that…?"

"Exciting. That was the best part. It was like… I felt…"

"You _liked_ it?"

"Hm. When you made me drink you. And I was struggling and…"

"But I was forcing you to…"

"Yes. I told you. The other night. Take charge of me, be in charge. I want you to. I like that. Give me orders. I like you to…"

"To what?"

I couldn't look him in the eye. This was perverted.

"Use me. Make use of me. I love it. I want to be used by you…"

"Are you? Do you know what you're saying? That could get you in bad trouble. Very bad trouble."

"Only with you, I mean. Only because I trust you. I wouldn't be like that with someone unless I knew them _really_ well."

"Make sure of that. Giving yourself up to someone like that who takes advantage can end in all sorts of horrible things."

"I know. Just with you."

His hands were on my back, stroking, soothing. I was at peace.

"And don't ever be so silly as to ask anyone to tie you up or anything."

A quiver went through me.

"I won't. Unless it's you. Only you. You can do that Asapin."

He lifted my head and looked at me carefully.

"Really? You'd want that?"

"Hm. If it was you. I trust you completely. I'd want to… doing what I did just now, you making me swallow. Kneeling in front of you. And with my hands tied behind me…"

I squirmed my belly on his thigh. _My God. I think I might have just described my perfect fantasy just then._

"You are so… naughty. So _rude_. People at school call me perverted and a sex fiend. I think I just lost my crown to you, you naughty, naughty girl."

I wiggled against him again.

"What happens…?"

"Hm?"

"What happens… to naughty girls?" I asked, timidly.

He looked at me again, very seriously.

"They are punished. They get taught a lesson."

"Oh."

A pause. I circled a fingertip around one of his nipples.

"If I'm naughty. Will you punish me?"

"We'll see. It depends how naughty you are."

"I think."

"Yes?"

"With you. I want to be. _Very_ naughty…"

- - - oOo - - -

_27 – 29 June 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Six, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	47. Asaba Hideaki Proves He Isn’t All Show

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Seven – Asaba Hideaki Proves He Isn't All Show**

_What makes you warm?  
The sun on your skin  
Or a summer storm?  
Rain? Rain on your face,  
Rain that you can taste  
Slowly as it drips  
Down your lips  
Like a kiss  
From the one you love. _

_What makes you hot?  
Something that you haven't got.  
Isn't that the way?_

- Jump Little Children, Body Parts

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And so that day went on.

That strange day.

Strangest of all days.

So much happened that was new and wonderful.

So many sights and smells and tastes and feelings and sounds.

So many ways of preparing the same ingredients so the meal tasted different each time.

And I stand here, arms taut, knuckles white and gripping and recall it like it were yesterday.

The intervening years (are they years? Yes, I suppose they are. I'm surprised, but they are. Years. Plural.), are as nothing when my memory goes back to that day and I recall that strangest of all friendships.

He was my friend. He confessed that he was, later, when we were walking. And I confessed to him. A friend, not a lover.

Well, hm. We were lovers, yes. But not in love.

There is such an important difference isn't there?

Can lovers be lovers and not be in love?

You might not think so.

I beg to differ.

What we did that day and the following night and the next day and many times thereafter was loving. I know it was.

Without an ounce of love in it.

Strange but true.

He was the strangest of all friends to me throughout that long, hot, rainy strange day.

He remained a friend for a long time. My recollection tries to go back, leafing through the days and seasons, the voices and the faces. Yes, of all the friends I've made I think he was there the longest.

Well, I suppose if you're going to look at it dispassionately, in terms of the number of days and hours, the longest would be Yukino. Or maybe Inoue.

I shake my head. Poor Inoue. Can you ever forgive me my darling?

But Asapin was there the _mostest_.

No, not Asapin.

Hideaki. You were my constant companion.

But not my love. I never loved you.

So I tell myself.

Even though as I do, the tears begin again, and flow and drop and my heart, so broken, remembers you.

So much you did for me.

And to me.

And me to you.

I blush even now, at those memories.

Crazy days, desperate days.

_Rude _days.

Oh, yes, they were fun.

He wasn't all show you know. He wasn't a silly, posing, posturing, empty-headed Casanova. Under that stupid Maryland façade, he was a lonely person, a kind person.

A patient person. A person who was…

_waiting._

And when and where it mattered he could deliver the goods.

Oh, my God, yes he could.

If I hadn't pushed him away in the end he might be here still.

But nothing would have come of it. I wasn't the girl he was seeking and he wasn't the boy. We were like two people spending time together because it was convenient. Sharing things, like conversations under a bus shelter.

The bus was the future. It was coming and it would divide us.

He's still waiting for his future. His special girl. Over these past years at Hokuei she never showed. I wonder when she will, if she ever will. He says she will, he's convinced of it.

And me? My future? I've had mine. My bus came and took me and dropped me at my destination and has gone. But what a future it was.

Wowee. I loved every minute of it.

I'll tell you.

Soon, I will.

Hm, I smile.

Thinking back to that wondrous day of new discoveries I realise how much I owe him, how much he gave. He was a good teacher, I learned much. Not just then but later as summer wore away and August cooled and became the rains of September, he taught me much. I learned to live at a slower pace, to expect less and not so soon. To value time, to value words, to value touches and minds and opinions and hearts. And people. He was a good teacher.

The best.

Arigato, Hideaki. Arigato gozaimasu, you held me together that summer.

You were my glue.

- - - oOo - - -

We lay together throughout that broiling afternoon, sometimes talking, sometimes not.

Sometimes kissing.

Sometimes not.

Sometimes touching.

Sometimes just resting, arms around each other. On our sides we'd lay, hugging and holding. We'd speak and talk of all things, stupid little things, jokes, TV shows, the teachers we hated, and our faces would be so close my breaths would mingle with his. Too many beers. More than I intended but not enough to make me regret.

We hardly wore anything those two whole days. It was my first time in so many ways and I was shy and nervous and a child. I'd had no youth. This was my youth. He was three or four years ahead of me in that way. He would walk about nude and I'd marvel at him, unable to tear my eyes off his gorgeousness. But me? No, I had to cover up.

He made a point, those two days, of always taking off what I was wearing but at least I had something for him to take off in the first place.

I wore always his borrowed clothes.

Who was it who said a girl looks great in a man's shirt and nothing else?

I don't know, but Asapin thought so. He told me. Many times.

Which was odd because within a few minutes he'd take it off me.

Baka.

In light of what came later I smile at that. Oh, how much things were to change.

But that day, those days, I was inexperienced, clumsy, gawky, shy.

A child. Curious, interested, investigating, but still a child.

- - - oOo - - -

It became so hot in the afternoon that we shifted our towels further under the trees and lay in the cooler shade.

Later I noticed the sun had gone in.

I sat up and looked, my head back searching the sky. He, on his back, looking at me and the shape of me and enjoying a different view.

Did I say he wasn't a silly, posing, posturing, empty-headed Casanova?

I mean he wasn't _all_ like that.

At times, infuriating, funny and just plain embarrassing, he could be as bad as he'd ever been.

Clouds had built up in the south west and were blowing in up the coast, the winds coming up from Southern China across the warm waters of the South China Sea, the Yellow Sea, sucking up moisture as they came. Building and building. Mountains in the sky. They struck the high ground of Japan's southern coast and the air was forced up, into the cooler air above. The temperature drop caused the water vapour to condense and become too heavy to be held up. And it fell as rain and washed the land.

You see? Hokuei High wasn't a complete waste of time.

Geography had taught me something.

It taught me that, that afternoon. It was maybe the only useful thing I ever put into practice that I learned in geography. In the strangest part of that strange day when the heavens opened upon us, I knew the exact processes that caused it.

The rain clouds built up and came closer, the day darkened. A breeze came up, a warm sticky breeze, delightful on the skin. I thought of people out walking, high school friends perhaps studying at others' houses and on their way home and the rain catching them, driving them to cover under bus shelters. And there maybe, dripping wet and warm, love might blossom.

We sat up and watched the sky.

"Storm coming."

"Hm."

"Look how black it is over there."

"Where?"

I pointed.

"_There_. In the sky baka!"

I looked at him.

He wasn't looking at the sky. He was staring at my chest.

"Couple of interesting things here too."

"Don't look in the shop window if you can't afford it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I pointed.

"What's _that_?"

He was small and limp.

"Nothing that a little kiss won't fix."

"Pah! Boys, you _are_ all the same. Think with your you-know-whats. World revolves around them."

"What do you know," he looked hurt, he sat up, "it _does_!"

I shook my head.

Boys.

Perverts, the lot of them.

"Weather's going to change soon."

He lay back down.

"Hm, Obon(1) is over, so yes."

"Rain's coming. Can you smell it?"

You could. It was palpable in the air, a metallic coppery smell, your tongue could pick up it's sharp flavour.

It wasn't much cooler though, it was still warm.

"We should pack up, go inside."

"No."

I looked at him.

"What? We'll get soaked."

"Yes."

"I don't get it, we can't stay out in the rain."

I reached for a towel, looked around for my bikini.

He sat up, put a hand on my arm. He said nothing but his eyes said, no, wait, something is happening.

"What is it?"

He put a finger to his lips.

Shush…

The tree tops near us began to sway and whip in the stiff breeze. Down here it was sheltered.

He stood up and extended his hand to me. I took it and he pulled me up. He put an arm across my shoulder and we looked at the sky.

The storm was almost here. You know how storms do weird things to the light? How the air turns green and takes on a sense of unreality? This storm did that, it did it in spades. It was the most amazing light I have ever seen. The air seemed green and yellow and bruised and dull and bright and purple all at the same time. Ozone was in the air, in my nostrils. It was a dream, and a pretty odd one at that.

We stood in an ordinary suburban garden, an unclothed boy and an unclothed girl and saw this strange smell coming. We tasted the light in the air. We felt the colours on our skin.

It was definitely trippy.

There came a rustling like trees blowing and I realised it was raindrops. The first ones, big and fat and plopping down and making the trees sing.

They came, clattering like hail, and like hail I felt each one as it struck me. Unlike hail though the rain was warm, like a shower in a bathroom. The water was almost hot. I was amazed. I'd never experienced a summer storm like it. The tall mountains of clouds, that weird light colouring the land and air, that smell a little like meat that has begun to go off, sharp and tangy. And hot rain.

That strange day, that wondrous day, nothing could have been stranger.

Or more wonderful.

The big fat raindrops began, separated and slowly, crashing down, you could count them.

Then it came, the storm it came and with it a wall of rain, warm and pounding. I gasped as it hit us. Everything instantly was soaked. The novel I'd borrowed from his shelf was ruined. Our half empty beer cans, when it was over, were full again.

And my heart.

My heart?

Full too.

Because that strangest of afternoons, Asapin did something that marked him out as quite marvelously different to what I'd thought and what all the guys at school thought. As that thunderous warm rain washed us, and our hair became instantly plastered to our scalps, he turned me to him.

And said.

"I want to make love to you, if you'll let me."

I blushed. Even with all that had gone before, I felt this way in response to this offer.

I looked up at him shyly.

"Yes. Inside, come on."

"No. Here. In the rain with me."

And then I felt the power in this situation. The warm rain in itself was a caress. I could feel the heavy drops pounding the soft and tender parts of me.

And it _was_ sexy, it turned me on. Like doing it in a shower must be like, except we were surrounded by nature. The weirdness of it, the nakedness out of doors in the warm massaging rain.

He hugged me to him and kissed me.

And pressing on my shoulders he pushed me down and we sank down together onto the sodden towel. Where our knees and hands and backs pressed, the soft soil gave and we lay in an inch of water.

And he took me.

He took me there and changed me, made me anew.

He was the first. The other one, years ago, never counted.

And unlike before he was kind and gentle and it was at first slow and beautiful. He lay on his back and because I wanted too, because I almost begged him to let me, I put my mouth on him again and took him deep into me until I could take him no deeper. I made him ready, and enjoyed myself. And he, by words and by pulling at my limbs indicated I was to face his feet and he made me lift one leg over and place the knee by his other shoulder and he, bless him, raised his head and did with his mouth to me what I was doing to him with mine.

And we joined together as the rain pounded my back and bottom and ran down and torrented off my dangling breasts.

He pulled me apart with his fingers held to either side and ate at me firmly and slowly and beautifully. So much so I had to stop what I was doing and cry out.

Then he, always conducting the pace of it this time, pushed me off him and rolled me onto my back and he swung around and put his hands under my knees and lifted them and parted them so widely and so rudely and the rain now hammered on him and into my face and chest. And as his big man-presence came over me he stopped.

And he made sure, he made certain by asking me.

"Is this right?"

"Yes, it's right."

"Is this what you want? I need to be sure it is."

"Yes, I want this."

"Tell me."

"Asapin," I lifted my head and kissed him, "do it to me. Come down on me. Come into me. Have me. I want you. Now, you… great big… baka! Now!"

And I laughed, and he laughed too.

It wasn't so much that it was funny.

But joyful.

And pressing to me I felt him, for the first time, at my entrance.

The rain had washed away much of what our excitement had generated so I was a little dry and it was with difficulty that he pushed into me. It hurt, but I didn't mind. I lay there being sent far away by that lovely sensation of being entered.

Boys, you have no idea.

No idea at all, what it's like for us.

The whole world is centred there, everything is sensation and power and heat and wet and ready and roaring and burning. And into this fantastic cauldron of sensation comes this great big hard, hot, rigid – _thing._ It presses at your opening and you have this most – well, for me almost religious sense of being opened up, of being spread and stretched and. _Had_.

_Had_ is the only word to use.

To describe the feeling is impossible, I'm doing the best I can. But there is this powerful inner need we girls have that drives us, drives our bodies and our minds. It's the primitive impulse that we exist to make babies. It's what we do, its what we're for. And as the boy touches you and you know its not a finger or a tongue but the thing that nature has designed and planned to be there, your mind goes into delicious overload and welcomes it in, gasps and cries out for it to be in.

And boys. You are on top (or wherever you are, it doesn't really matter) but it is your job to be in motion, to thrust and draw back and thrust again, again, again. Pounding, working hard, creating enough moisture and sensation for the barriers to crumble and fall and for the essential delivery system to do its job.

But while you are bouncing about and hard at work, we, on the other hand, lie there and take it.

We receive.

We accept.

We lay back and enjoy it (if you like).

We are the space that you fill.

We submit. You dominate.

We take. You give.

We are had, we are used, we are fucked.

Whatever you want to call it, it's something _you_ do to _us_. It _happens_ to us.

And it's that sensation I want to tell you about. Because of the way I am and how being used and dominated excites me so, when he entered me and I felt myself being opened up and stretched and used I had a feeling of such utter and total surrender, of complete submission. Over and over and over again, each time he pushed into me I would gasp at the wonder of it. The feeling of his hard heat deep within me, my body being pushed and forced to take his size…

It was these feelings, these sensations, these emotions that I focused on for those few short minutes.

I suppose he was inexperienced, I don't think he was a fantastic lover although I had nothing to compare him to. He was young and couldn't last long, his body was eager and quickly aroused. But even so, it was enough for me.

More than enough.

I existed those few minutes mostly in silence, just a gasping moan in response to each time he pushed up hard into my womb. And at the end as he became frantic and the world did what it always does, I let out a small cry, an insignificant thing.

But inside, in my heart, I was dying with pleasure.

It was new, it was different to anything else – my fingers or his, his mouth, different again to all of those. And time drew out slower and slower, longer and longer, thinner and thinner, like a strand of toffee a child will pull out and out from it's mouth, finer and finer until it breaks. And time stops. And time runs on too fast. And everything comes together in one tiny place. And at the same time everything flies apart and goes whirling off in every direction, taking you with it, spinning and twisting and gasping and finished.

Some girls will tell you they feel the moment the boy finishes and they describe heat and wetness inside them, but I didn't. I didn't feel him finish at all, but no matter, it's not important. I was happy.

He lay on me, breathing ragged. I too, gasping, warm rain pounding my eyes and into my mouth. I gasped out his name and my thanks and clutched him to me, two inches of water around us in our muddy towelly depression.

Pushing himself up on his elbows he wiped my hair off my forehead and kissed me.

We lay there, blanketed in warm water until the storm passed, hugging and kissing and still joined.

The storm washed me.

That storm. And his storm.

Washed me clean.

I was happy.

- - - oOo - - -

We picked up the ruined debris of our afternoon on the lawn and went inside, dumping most of it in the laundry, the rest in the trash. Just to have a covering over me I put on his Hawaiian shirt, the wet plastering it to me.

Indoors were fresh towels. I showered and dried myself. He gave me one of his shirts, a plain white one with crisp collar and cuffs. I had to turn the sleeves half way up. I'd never seen him wearing it, perhaps he had a suit and had worn this to a family wedding.

We stood in the kitchen watching the steady rain.

We were both hungry and he offered to get that takeaway. I didn't want to be alone today, being alone would let thoughts come and I didn't want to think.

He found me an old red pair of shorts, the smallest he had but still almost down to my knees. I had to use one of his belts to keep them up.

So wearing these clothes of his, just two pieces of clothing and taking an umbrella and his arm around my waist holding me close, he took me up the road in search of food. We ran together in the warm rain, laughing and young.

My step was light, I hugged him back.

I was happy and I think he was too.

There wasn't much in his neighbourhood but at the railway line we turned towards the station. There on a row of small shops was an Italian restaurant, rather cheap and tired looking.

It was late afternoon, or very early evening. It was open but empty. We ate in, sharing a pizza and a dish of pannecotta. He had a beer, I had water. We finished with coffee.

We ate in silence. I was starving.

And in our corner table, me with my back to the room he put out a hand, slid it down inside my shirt and held me.

"Your aim is way off. The pepper is to your left."

"I don't want the pepper."

His fingers pinched and twisted and I closed my eyes at the sweetness of his touch.

We finished quickly. He paid the bill and we made our way back. It was a perfectly ordinary walk out and back, a very ordinary cheap meal, instantly forgettable.

But I won't forget.

That day, that weather. That boy.

"I'm glad you came," he said as we shared the umbrella back.

"I'm glad you had me," I answered. It was proving to be a conversation of two meanings.

"Will you forgive me?"

"What on earth for?"

"Taking you. When I don't love you?"

I stopped, looked at him.

"What? Nothing to forgive, baka. And I don't love _you_ either, so it's fine."

"Is it? Shouldn't your first time be with one you love?"

"You seem to be confused between fairy tales and the real world. No, I don't mind. The very opposite in fact. You were lovely. You were exactly what I needed."

"I'm sorry I don't love you. I feel as though I should, but I can't."

"We've had this conversation before, forget it. Don't worry about it. I'm fine with this. And you know… well, it's fine, us not loving."

"I like you though. Very much. You're my friend. I'm glad I have you. And not just because…"

"Don't you go getting all slushy on me now, I don't want any of that crap, not today. And I'm glad you had me too..."

"And you don't love me? I just wanted to make sure. Because, after that, I thought your feelings might change."

"After that? Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Baka! Why should you buying me pizza make me love you?"

He stood a moment then saw my smile. He laughed and I did too.

"Come on, friend," I pulled at his waist, "take me home. Like me some more."

"I'd like to like you a lot."

"That's good," I replied, "make like to me."

"I'm going to like you all night."

"I'd like that."

- - - oOo - - -

Inside the doorway, damp from the rain, umbrella and shoes dropped aside, again, hot and quickly and in our need. Pulling at each others clothes and staggering and laughing up the stairs. Part way up the stairs, me ahead of him, he grabs the shorts and holds me, pulls them down.

"No," I squeal, "Wait!"

"Why?" he asks.

And I can't answer him. Why indeed?

And there, right there on the staircase, he strips me and pushing me down his hands slap my legs apart, fingers touch and make me gasp, and he climbs up behind me and awkwardly and fast and giggling has me. I'm laughing and pushing him away but he pulls one arm behind me and twists it and I gasp at the stress on my muscles. He adjusts his position and in one fast hot motion is in me and I cry out.

With his free hand he reaches round and squeezes my breast, twisting, crushing and pinching. And within a few seconds the giggling and laughing stops to be replaced by gasping moans and other sounds, animal sounds, the sounds of flesh in flesh and the simple noises two people make when they care about nothing but giving and receiving physical pleasure.

My second time, and so crudely and quickly and roughly. It is the roughness and speed of it that sends me heavenward this second time. I love the way he does that, not asking me if I want it or mind but just reaching out and taking and forcing me to endure while he enjoys. I love that in him, that arrogance.

And it went on.

And that night while the rain watched us from the window, we liked each other.

Several times, and in different ways. I knelt astride him and felt him go so deep I thought he'd damage me.

One time he excited me by pushing my face down into the futon and holding me down, a hand on the back of my neck while I gasped in helpless submission and he knelt behind me and entered me roughly, making me cry out with his ferocity.

But even though I had flashes of a memory of five years ago come to me, they couldn't hurt me any more, couldn't dent my enjoyment at all.

_And you can just piss off brother, I'm free of that shit now._

And I did enjoy that, when he was rough. I wanted more of that. He put his hand on my bottom and slapped me a few times, making me gasp and cry out. He wiggled his thumb into my second smaller hole and made me shriek and squirm and try to throw him off, but he was too strong, too heavy and he held me down and had me that way too while I writhed and cried out.

I gasped with the excitement of the sensations this caused in me. I howled in pleasure. I loved it.

And in the late night when he was sleeping and it was three or four o'clock I awoke and pushing the sheet off him I slid down to him and took him in my mouth and enjoyed tasting him as he slept. He grew in me and became ready and his size choked me. Then hands were on me pulling me up and laying me down and he had me again.

- - - oOo - - -

And those wonderful two days ended.

I did clean his kitchen and I did do it in the nude. And he did watch me. I refused at first but he ordered me to and promised me he'd make it worth it when I was done. And that situation, of being given orders to do something was enough to excite me until my shyness was forced aside.

And what did he do when I was finished? When I was flushed and ready and waiting for him to take me again?

Baka.

He cooked breakfast.

Ah, well, he made up for it later.

And it _was_ a good breakfast.

- - - oOo - - -

And that is really all I have to say about that summer break.

It was a great time, so much happened, so many good things. So much progress.

I learned a lot about myself and those around me.

I returned to school having decided that swimming was the thing I would focus on. It had always been my safety valve. When I was lonely or angry or depressed or sad. Swim. Go swimming, put the world aside for an hour. Airborne in the deep water.

So I approached the school coach and told him I wanted to be better, as good as I could be. I mentioned the 2000 Olympics and asked what I needed to do. He spoke to the school governors about financial support for a more skilled trainer and the payment of train fares to the Olympic size pool at Narita.

So my life took on a new focus.

But I didn't leave my friends behind.

A lot happened very soon after school began again, and they were all involved.

My friends.

And of course Maho.

What happened with her in September…and October... well, that's what I want to tell you about next.

- - - oOo - - -

I stood in his doorway, in my Rika dress and clutching my sports bag. Apart from the toiletries, I'd used nothing in it, none of the clean clothes, except the one change of underwear I'd put on to go home.

"Arigato, it's been lovely. Exactly what I needed. Asaba Snuggles Inc will be at the top of my phone list from now on. I didn't see this side of you at all before. You'd better not show this side of yourself in public, or everyone will want you."

"Why do you think I act the clown?" he replied, "This way I attract all the attention but I can decide who to let closer."

"Oh, did you decide to let me closer?"

"Ah, no. Actually I think you decided to let me, didn't you? Sure I was intrigued by you. Always so shy and blushing, and then recently such a change. So I was interested, yes."

"You planned this?"

He shrugged.

"Didn't we both?"

"So, you'd like me to tell you _all_ my secrets behind chameleon me?"

"You're the lady, you are entitled to your secrets."

"You're a gentleman, you're entitled to hear them."

"Ladies first."

"If you don't mind, I'll exercise my prerogative. For now."

I stood on tip toe and gave him a kiss.

"Arigato."

"My pleasure," he said.

"I know."

I winked at him and descended to the street.

"Shall I call you?" his voice came down across my back.

"Onegai!"

- - - oOo - - -

_28 – 30 June 2007 _

_(1) For Japanese language notes, please see my forum._

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Seven, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	48. Meetings In A Mall

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Eight – Meetings In A Mall**

I met up with Maho three more times near the end of August.

I went to her house to return her math book. She was in the garden, but not sitting in the sun, just reading while listening to music on her headphones under the shade of the back porch.

I sat with her and we drank and talked.

She was different. I felt it at once.

Withdrawn, less friendly.

She was cooler towards me, quieter.

I guessed it might be me. My fault. That what I'd said had scared her. What else could it be?

Her mother brought out a plate of cinnamon rolls.

She reached for one and I did too. As our two hands came near the plate hers stopped and withdrew. After I had taken one she reached again to take one for herself.

I think she was afraid I might touch her.

Later we politely said goodbye, nothing more.

- - - oOo - - -

We arranged to go shopping.

She was distant to me. Somehow I expected that but I'd thought that a simple half day around the shops could do no harm.

I'd bought a skirt a couple of days before but when I tried it on the zip had split away from its stitching so I needed to take it back.

I changed it at the shop and tried on one or two other things.

A dress caught my eye. The summer being almost over now, the sales were on, and the summer wear was dirt cheap. They had it in a lilac colour and a really stunning orange. Both were lovely but I could only afford one.

I went into the changing area to try them on.

I called Maho in to get her opinion.

It was just a dress and I was just a girl. Girls do this all the time. It's not like with boys, it's second nature to us. To talk while we change, discuss clothing. Really it's nothing to chat to a girlfriend while you change in bra and panties. I stood in front of her.

She was at the entrance to the changing area. She leaned on the door post and looked seriously fed up.

"What do you think?"

"It's fine."

"What? The fit? Or the colour?"

"Yeah."

I stood and looked at her.

"Come on, be serious. Which?"

"Both. It's fine."

I turned around.

"Does it fit my hips?"

"Fine."

I sighed. I was wasting my time. I'd get a better opinion if I grabbed some passing pervy boy off the street.

"I asked you in here for your help."

"I know perfectly well why you asked me in here Kanahrin."

"So then, does it fit?"

"I told you."

"No you didn't. You said a bunch of words that came into your head without thinking."

"What do you want me to do? Hm? Walk up to you, feel your tits up and say 'oh, the front is really nice and tight.' Is that what you want?"

"Dammit, woman, what's got into you?"

"I thought you'd realised!" she stood up away from the door frame and hunched her shoulders, "I told you. I'm not like that. I'm not like you. I don't want to see you in your underwear or _whatever_ so just leave me out of this, okay?"

She stormed out.

I stood there, too stunned to think.

"What?! I'm just asking what you think about a damn dress!"

I went to the changing area doorway.

She was just outside, her back to me, arms folded.

"Maho, really, I'm just trying on a dress."

She turned to me. Her face said it all.

"Sakana, I can't relax around you any more. I know what you're like. I know what you're thinking when you look at me. I told you no. I'm not like that. I'm going home."

"Maho!"

"Please don't call me, I'd hate to be rude to you again. I'll see you at school. Gomen nasai."

She went.

I stood.

And became empty.

- - - oOo - - -

I saw her quite by accident in the mall one day.

She was with someone.

A man.

My first thought was it was him, but it could have been her older brother.

They weren't holding hands at all, or touching. Just walking. She pointed out something and he laughed, a relaxed, familiar laugh.

I was a little way from them and I stopped.

They came towards me.

I glanced at them.

My eyes met hers.

They walked past.

I looked down and felt her eyes on me.

But she ignored me.

On the train on the way home I shut my eyes.

And inside, quietly.

I wept.

- - - oOo - - -

_30 June – __01 July 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Eight, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	49. Conversations In A Class

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Forty Nine – Conversations In A Class **

14 Days / 1

September came. School started, our second semester.

At the very beginning of the semester we had to sit the Kadai test in the morning. This was used to determine our academic ability.

I hate tests. You need to be clever.

Not only was I not confident I was also in a grey mood, a little black cartoon rain cloud hovered over my head, pissing on my parade.

You can guess why.

And it was time of the month again.

Gee, thanks.

I was in the locker area stowing my bag and changing into my slippers.

Asaba went past.

"Ohayo," I called to him.

He stopped and turned.

"Ohayo."

His soft brown eyes cut through me. I blushed.

Memories. Naughty ones.

I glanced around at the other girls. Several glanced at him as they went by.

Gosh, ladies, if only you knew what I'd done with Asapin. God, you'd be so jealous.

He looked as cool and laid back as ever, hair now down below his collar, his tan impossibly dark and a selection of necklaces hanging down into his wide open shirt front. He had bracelets on and several chunky rings too.

The guy was impossible. The first teacher to set eyes on him would send him home, surely?

"Did you have a good summer?" he asked, "Do anything nice?"

"I did. Arigato. I got up to some very nice things. Very nice indeed. I learned a lot. I enjoyed myself. Did you?"

"Hmm," he smiled, "I met up a very interesting person and had some great days. Very energetic. Good exercise."

"That's good. So, are you well?" I asked, smiling, and still pink.

"I wasn't when I got up this morning, the concept of school is totally at odds with the Hideaki life-plan…" he leaned against the lockers, hands in pockets.

If he was made of ice cream he'd melt, he was so cool, so _beachy. _

That's right, he was like a personification of an Okinawan resort, I could smell all around him barbecues and beach vendors selling watermelon.

"…and all the way here I was thinking, Hideaki, this is so _wrong_. It's wrong, wrong, _wrong_. The sun is out," (he made a wavy gesture in the air as though drawing with his palms a large round object), "the weather is beautiful," (he waggled one side of his shirt collar with two fingers indicating being hot), "but then… Then I walk in here and suddenly I realise why I come to school..."

"Oh. Don't say anything pervy okay? It's the first day. Take it slowly."

"Girls," he burbled dreamily, his eyes on me (and I don't mean my face), "girls, luscious, curvy, blossoming, full-breasted, wasp-waisted, lickable cutie-pies, hmmm," he put his back to the lockers and sank down into a squatting position, as though overcome with emotion, his hands flapping about helplessly, "schools are full of girls. And after summer they will be all tanned and wanting to show off their delicious brown skin to me. _Look Asaba-kun,_" he made a squeaky little girl voice, "_I went to the beeeeach. You can see my bikini line… it was a very small bikini. Ooooh, no, don't touch me there…ooh, I said not to… _So you see, I survive on the basic food of life, the gift from heaven."

"Anything with tits, you mean," I strode by him, leaving him to his breast-studded fantasies.

"You know," he called after me from his sitting position, "it's not just breasts. And of course the lovely little short skirts at Hokuei are another bonus."

I clapped my hands to my bottom, holding the material flat against me.

"You… you creep! You didn't look did you?"

"Pink again…" he almost moaned, rolling his eyes, "plump and soft and sweet like marshmellow… I want to kiss, to taste your lovely marshmellow…"

He scrambled up and followed me.

"Keep away from me you _disgusting_, panty-obsessed freak!"

I liked it really. At least with him I knew I was on safe ground. Or if it was unsafe, I could handle it. It would be _nice_ unsafe ground.

We went in and sat the Kadai.I did neither well nor badly, I got by. Okay I think.

Asapin hung out with me afterwards, it was around midday now.

We were walking down a corridor and bumped into Yukino and Arima. I called out to them.

"Hey guys! Look what I found outside!"

"Soichiro, Miyazawa. Aloha," and Asaba did a little Hawaiian hula, wiggling his hips and arms.

I stepped away.

"I, er… He's not really with me, I was just passing."

Yukino went a funny colour. She looked like she had some food jammed in her windpipe.

"A… A… Asaba!"

"You're just so…" Arima stopped. The words wouldn't come out.

"Yay!" Asapin shimmied up to them and made to hug Arima.

"No!" squeaked Yukino, "No, no, no! Nooo! Nooo!" she crumpled up looking like cardiac arrest was only seconds away.

"You're looking all delinquent again," Arima accused (and he was dead right), backing off, pushing him away, "What's with all that jewellery?!"

"Aw, come on," I defended him, heaven knows why, "at least he's cute. He makes a good looking accessory."

"No he doesn't!" Yukino squeaked, "He reeks of ambiguous morals! If the head of year sees us he'll knock 10 points off my Kadai score just for being _near_ this thing. Corruption by association!" she moved back, Plus Four Fists Of Death at the ready, "I'm a model student! I don't even wanna be near a guy like this who's goofing his life away!"

"It looks like a fun way to go though," I offered.

Asapin looked round at me and winked.

"You and me together babe, let's goof off into the sunset."

"No, no, nooo! This isn't right," Yukino held her head in her hands, "don't let yourself be dragged into the black hole of his perverted intentions. Once past his event horizon there's no way back."

"I'll suck you in, Kanahrin, and you'll never return."

"Er…"

Actually, that sounded like one hell of a way to go, but I kept quiet and just moved a little further away pretending I agreed with Yukino.

Yukino looked over my shoulder and froze.

"Ka… Kawashima-sensei… the head of year tutor. He's coming this way."

"It's not my problem," Arima rounded on Asapin, "if you have to go bald and take another long break so soon after summer break."

"Prison? For looking like that?" I stammered.

"Yes! It should be compulsory!"

"Baka!" Yukino added.

"What?" asked Asaba, clearly this subtlety was going way over his head.

"The looks are the least of it, Ryusaki, it's the fetishistic freak within that needs locking up! You stay away, you hear me?!" Arima added.

Kawashima-sensei reached us after a slow purposeful approach. We all fell silent and edged a few more inches away from the Asaba Sphere of Corruption. I realized I was on one side of the corridor and Yukino and Arima were on the other, by the windows. Asapin stood, oozing Useless Corrupt Student-ness in the middle. The year tutor dropped a hand heavily on Asaba's shoulder and gave him a hard blazing look.

"Take it easy, alright?" he intoned in a fearful wavering voice.

"All right!" Asapin beamed, as though rapping with his mates, and not one of the five most senior officials in the finest non-private school in Tokyo. I thought he might even try a little dap with tutor.

Kawashima-sensei moved on, his head down. Was he shaking it a little?

We turned to watch him go, he seemed a little _less_, a little crumpled.

Arima spoke.

"To think that he has to instruct aliens like him at his age."

"I feel sorry for him," Yukino added, "Oh," she looked down at the floor, "some of his hair – fallen out."

"Hm," Arima intoned.

I chuckled.

I wasn't in the best of moods, but it was, all things considered, good to be back.

Friends were fun. I'd decided. Better to have them than not.

Even Asapin, disturbingly gratuitous Asapin, was fun to be near.

- - - oOo - - -

"Yeah, let's eat lunch!" Yukino was always enthusiastic, always talking louder than was necessary.

She slid open the door.

The four of us went into 1-A's homeroom. The others were there; Tsubaki, Rika, Aya, Tsubasa and at the back eating quietly by herself, Maho.

My eyes went to her at once. Her gaze met mine and dropped down, expressionless. She picked up another mouthful of rice.

"Long time no see." Tsubaki called out.

I swear that it'd be impossible to pick a winner if she and Yukino held a "Miss Loud and Bubbly Personality" competition.

"You came across from the other block?" I asked.

"Hey," she pointed a finger, "you're pretty quick. We did. Oh, spare me," she went on, picking on Yukino, "not dragging that husband around with you again? It gets real stuffy in here with you two climbing all over each other. Don't start making out 'cause it gets annoying real fast, okay?"

"Do you ever see us making out?" Yukino shot back.

"You need a boy, Tsubaki," I said, "Then you'll see the other side of the coin."

"Me? A boy? Since when did I need a crutch to lean on? I'm not broken, like some people. And anyway, Miss Lonely Heart, who are you to talk?"

I smiled sweetly at her, sat and got my lunch out.

"What, Hideaki," said Arima, "You only have sandwiches for lunch? You're hopeless. Here, I'll give you some of mine. You better think about nutritional balance a little."

I mean, come on, is Arima real? What boy aged sixteen ever thinks about nutritional balance for crying out loud?

The two boys were sat at a table a little way away. Yukino had sat at our table but at the end near them with me and Tsubaki. Maho was at the opposite end of the group near Tsubasa who was grinding her way through her lunch box like the Aomori-Hokkaido tunnel boring machine. Maho would at least get some peace down there, the tiresome interruptions of things like conversation could be avoided.

"Say 'ahh'," Asaba was holding up a bacon wrapped asparagus head with Arima's own chopsticks, offering it towards the other boy's mouth.

I watched, fascinated.

"Baka! What are you on about?"

"Open up. Come on. Say ahhh…"

"Get away from me. You know I'm not into that gay oral stuff."

"Hmm," Tsubaki gave a little appreciative smile, "Boy-boy isn't half bad you know."

"Doesn't it make your lunch taste so much better?" Aya added smoothly, watching the boys intently.

Yukino got up and walked to the window, arms folded, making pissed off noises.

"It's homeroom planning after lunch isn't it? What're we doing?" I spoke to her back.

"We're going to talk about the culture fest," Arima supplied, fending off a breaded fish ball being poked at his face.

"Oh, man," Yukino sighed, "more busy days ahead."

"When's the culture fest again?" asked Rika.

"September fifteenth. Hideaki! Will you cut that crap out?!"

Asaba put the chopsticks to his own mouth, sucked the fish off.

"Oh, Soichiro, I can taste you on them…"

"Have my lunch. I'm not hungry anymore." Arima got up, hands in pockets, and joined Yukino at the window.

Asaba slid over to me and Tsubaki.

"Sakura, my sporty little nymphe, shall I feed you some tender meat?"

"Piss off."

"Ryusaki, can I interest you in anything in my lunchbox?"

"Uh, I'm fine, arigato."

"Oh, I can see that, what I meant was… yaah!"

Tsubaki had slapped him.

"The lady said no, you damn pervert! Now get the hell away from us! Seriously Ryusaki, don't give him an inch, he'll take a mile."

"He doesn't need a mile, seven inches would be enough."

Rika spat out her rice.

"Gomen," she'd gone all pink.

"And don't make jokes about it either," Tsubaki waggled her chopsticks at me, "his sex-fiend radar will log all comments like that and he'll think you're interested, so don't give him any openings."

"Sakana's not interested in Asaba, are you?"

Maho had spoken her first words of the day as far as I was aware. And her tone said she wasn't asking a question either. But then I knew that. And she knew I knew.

I said nothing but continued eating.

Tsubaki looked at me in a funny way.

"Sakana, you're not are you? For God's sake, don't show any interest in _that_! I'd rather be tied to a chair and forced to sit through a two hour Arima and Yukino tongue marathon than know you were even slightly interested in that… _thing_!"

"Will you cut that crap out?" Arima called from the window, "we're not like that at all."

"How dull," Asapin said, "if Sakana won't join me I'll have to eat Soichiro's meat on my own."

Rika spat rice again.

"Gomen…"

"But isn't there something absurd about them making us prepare for the culture fest all in two weeks?"

"I think the sports clubs have been preparing since summer break," Arima answered Tsubaki.

"It just means they don't think we can study in this heat," said Aya.

"The girl's volleyball team is gonna run a hostess bar with the girl's judo club. I'm gonna have such a good time with the babes!"

_She is a lez… she has to be… _

"The crafts club is going to make a dolls house," said Rika, managing to swallow food again.

"Sounds like _you're_ all going to enjoy it, lucky people."

"What do you care, Yukinon? You've got your husband."

"I said don't call me that, Sakura!"

"Won't you be going around the fest with Arima, Yukino?" Rika asked.

"Well, sure, if we have the time. But we'll probably have to take on multiple committee duties. While everyone else is having fun, we'll be barely conscious, probably running around, dusty and sweaty."

"I don't remember much of what happened at the end of the sports fest," said Arima.

"Hm, I guess you clever people have a hard time. You people who go through life struggling to improve yourselves. We should cut you some slack."

"Huh?" most of us looked at Maho in surprise. Where did that come from? When did Maho start sympathizing with the likes of Yukino?

Rika broke the stunned silence with her own brand of not-quite-in-touch-ness.

"Tsubasa, are you doing anything for the culture fest?"

The sound of the world's cutest human food processor continued unabated. Asking Tsubasa if she was involved with a school event was like asking a brick in a wall if it was doing anything interesting that weekend.

Yukino came over.

"Tsubasa, your hair is done up so cute. Come here and cuddle with me."

Tsubasa scowled at her and bared her teeth, her long red fingernails came out like talons and slashed at the space Yukino's reaching hands had just occupied. Yukino drew back.

"Hey!"

"This is how she's been recently, Yukinon," said Tsubaki, "She's changed in the last couple of weeks. We have to keep feeding her sweets to keep her quiet."

"What is she? An animal?"

"What about you, Maho?" Aya asked.

"I'm not interested in school events, so I'll be at home asleep."

"What about you, Asapin?" Yukino asked

"Nothing much. Just doing whatever the class is doing. Other than that… probably hunting girls. Sakura, these hostess bars have some cute uniforms don't they? How about French maids? I could design some great outfits for you all… you know… stockings and such…"

Tsubaki rolled her eyes and threw half an onigiri ball at him.

"Strut about wearing a tiny skirt and stockings while you leer at me? I'd rather drink a bucket of sea water and stick my fingers down my throat."

I think Tsubaki had a database of these comebacks ready stored up in her launcher racks.

"So, Ryusaki, what about you?" Yukino asked me.

"Well if the swimming club had actually been doing a swimming event, a display or something, I might have got involved. But they're running an anime film show, so I'm not interested in all that stuff. Dealing with people, selling tickets, ugh, no thanks."

"You should set up a catwalk and do a swimming costume fashion show," Asapin was always so helpful, "think how many boys would pay to see you lot modelling your bikinis. And at 250 Yen a bucket they could throw water over you and everything…"

I looked at him.

"Sometimes, Asapin, the detail to which your fantasies go is distinctly worrying…"

"You lot are so unenthusiastic. Modern youth is so uninvolved," Tsubaki sounded jaded.

"Seems that way to you because you're really involved. I'm sure you'll have fun with your hostess bar."

"Hm, I'm imagining it now…" Asapin looked up to heaven, all dreamy.

"We are _not_ dressing like that!"

"Ah, I wanna be at home and asleep like Maho too!" Yukino whined.

_I wanna be asleep with Maho. _

- - - oOo - - -

After lunch I was with Yukino on our way back from a study period. We called in on the way to 1-Ds homeroom to see if any of the girls were still around.

Aya was there, writing at her desk. Rika was sat nearby doing some needlework, a cushion cover it looked like.

I went over to her.

The whole cover was three quarters filled with the most wonderful embroidered flowers I'd ever seen. It was simply beautiful.

"Wow, Rika, that's stunning."

"Arigato, but it's just something I'm doing to keep me awake while I keep Aya company."

The black haired girl flipped another page over on her A4 pad and bent again, furiously to her work.

"What's she doing?"

"Creative writing."

"What is it? Can I see?"

"No, don't disturb her, she gets totally focused. If you break her chain of thought she'll break your arm."

"Ooh, scary. Thanks for the tip. Well, I'm off to our homeroom planning session. Catch you later."

"Bye."

- - - oOo - - -

1-As homeroom again, mid-afternoon. Our planning session for the class culture fest event.

Our two indestructible class reps, Yukino and Arima were at the front desk. In charge.

Like they like to be.

I was dozing off nicely somewhere near the back. I didn't want to be involved anyway.

Like I like to be.

"Now, we'll be starting homeroom," Yukino began, "Based on the handout distributed in the student council just now, the culture fest will be on the fifteenth of this month. This is our matter for discussion. Or, rather, as both Arima and I are busy, please decide among yourselves and do whatever you feel like. That's all."

I raised an eyebrow. Oops. That'll piss 'em off, for sure.

"Eh?"

"What?"

"Class rep! Is that all you're going to say?"

"Please think more seriously about the class!"

The class broke out in uproar.

Damn, look at them all, poor saps, slaves of the education system every one. Do this. Do that. Do it right. Be involved. Do it better. Do it the best.

Beat the opposition. Then dance about on their still warm twitching bodies.

Hokuei, Hokuei, Hokuei. Fight ya! Fight ya! Fight ya!

Stockbrokers, Prefectural Administrators, Lawyers and Financiers of the future sat there and ranted and raved about a poxy school culture fest.

Competitiveness.

It sucks.

Sticking your head in your own personal sandbox for the three formative years of middle school does have it benefits. I was immune to this crazy herd-like need to beat the system.

I'd found out years ago that the system was rotten to the core.

I had no plans to beat it.

My plans centred around ignoring it while giving it the big fat up-yours finger.

I was going to swim. Swim hard. Swim to honour myself. Swim at the Olympics.

And after that? No plans at all. Maybe advertise health foods or some such crap. Do a couple of sports talk shows. Fade ignominiously away as sports stars do.

Maybe live with Asapin and fuck his brains out every night until his perfect girl came along and he kicked me out.

Or maybe, if she and he were willing, I'd stay with them and us girls could both fuck his brains out every night. Or... if she was that way inclined, Asapin and I could fuck her brains out... my fantasy ambled pathetically onwards.

My mood sucked that day. I didn't want anyone to involve me in anything.

I didn't want anyone close.

"Shuddup!" Yukino shouted, "I don't wanna think seriously about anything other than exams."

She made a crude gesture signifying the class were beneath her contempt by pretending to pick her nose in front of them.

"That's dirty!"

"Super corrupt class rep!"

"Say what you will. I'd rather go home and clean out my ears than do stuff like this that'll gain me nothing."

Hm, she was laying it on a bit thick. Sure, you might want to be a high powered lawyer when you're twenty but no need to start being a total bitch just yet.

I looked over towards the window. Maho sat there, quietly ignoring the babbling fools. She had her left elbow on her desk, her chin resting in it.

The Maho pose.

God, how I loved it.

I went back in time, back over the months and watched her. Her hair was down in front of her face, I could see only that beautiful nose.

Then it happened again, she lifted her hand and with one finger pushed the hair back behind her ear.

In slo-mo her eyes swung across the room, watching the show. Her gaze came around to me.

I looked back. For a long moment we stared at one another.

Then I smiled. I gave her my gentlest and hopefully my most understanding smile. My heart floated out to her on that smile.

Emotionless, her gentle dark eyes swung away again and she turned her head and stared out the window.

I stared for long minutes at the back of her head.

Where, in God's name was I going with this person?

"Irresponsible!"

"Please do this properly!"

"The culture fest is for everyone!"

"I've already told you," the Girl of Steel was unmoved, "it's none of my business!"

"No way!"

"You're the worst!"

"I can't believe this!"

"Hey, there's something interesting written here," Arima's deeper, calmer voice cut across the babbling farmyard that was supposed to be a class of the finest academics in Tokyo. He was looking at his own clipboard notes of the culture fest arrangements, "When the culture fest is over a first place winner will be announced from among the participants, based on a combination of profits and number of customers."

"Ohhh…" said the class.

"However," he went on, "any team determined to have forcefully attracted customers will be excluded. Awarded to the first place team will be: gift vouchers for a steakhouse meal; a pass to go to any one show or event during the autumn field trip; a complete copy of the high school notes belonging to a student who was accepted into Tokyo University, of which one will be given as a prize from the teachers."

"Ohhh…" said the class again.

"Steakhouse!"

" Disneyland!"

And then from beside Arima at the front desk:

"Copies of notes!"

Yukino's eyes looked heavenwards avariciously.

"So that's why, when we visited last year during the fest, they were strangely enthusiastic," a boy turned round to a friend of his near me.

"No wonder the sports teams started preparing during the summer."

"It's not fair on the ordinary students, you know."

"SILENCE!" Yukino's shouted voice brought instant quiet, "Now," she smiled evilly at the class, "let's talk…"

"Whoa! Scary!"

"And here's the person who said just now to do whatever we wanted…"

"MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…HA…HA…HAHAHAHA…!"

The class froze. What?

"That voice!" Yukino faced the door, Arima did too.

Deranged cackling had come from out in the corridor.

"Class A cannot win! No matter how much you talk it over!"

"What? What did you say?"

The door slid aside on its tracks as though by itself. It lazily reached the end of its runners and bumped against the stops.

Silence.

You could cut the air with a knife.

Had the room been plunged into blackness and theatrical spotlights been trained on that doorway it would have not focused our attention on it one tiny bit more.

I found myself, my desk being against the corridor wall, standing and moving to my left so I could see the door from a better angle. A sheep-like (or I should say lamb-like) herd of others did likewise. Those at the back left their desks and pressed forwards, unable to see.

A figure emerged slowly in the doorway, black slacks, a baggy white billowing shirt, an outrageously deep slash of bronzed chest, jewellery covering it. Sleeves rolled back, one arm lifted, silver bracelets catching the light and flicked back the long blonde fringe.

Asapin stood in the doorway, he leaned back against the door jamb and put one leg up, the foot resting insolently against the opposite jamb.

For a moment nothing happened except that every boy in the room looked puzzled and every girl went dreamy eyed.

Yes. I was among them.

Damn, he looked good.

Good enough to eat. Right there and then.

Hell, pulling down his trousers and eating him right there would be a damn good way of being permanently expelled. Kids would talk about it for years afterwards. I'd be famous.

It came back to me once again how simply damn _brazen_ he was, and yet he was so good looking he could carry it off, this outrageous cheek.

And yet? What the heck was he up to?

He spoke smoothly, quietly; for him timing was everything.

And his timing today was perfect.

He should be on the stage.

Ah, how prophetic that thought was.

"Because," he looked at us through his long fringe and drooled smoothly, "class F owns first place."

"Asapin?" Yukino was one of the few females in the room still able to influence coherent muscle control over her lower jaw, "What's with you? Acting all creepy… What're you doing here?"

"Oh, isn't he lovely?" a starry-eyed girl near me hung onto her friend. Her friend wasn't much use, she seemed to be well into the advanced stages of orgasm herself, "Hmmm… look at his eyes…"

Asapin stood there, stroking his chest and giving the girls his best come hither look.

"You certainly seem full of confidence. What's class F going to do?"

"Us? Oh, well just a simple little thing… The Asaba Hideaki Dinner Show…"

He continued stroking and undulating his hips in a quite traumatic way.

Everyone repeated:

"Huh? Asaba Hideaki Dinner Show?"

"Ooohh…" said the girls, or at least those who weren't yet writhing on the floor or rubbing their groins against table legs or each other.

"I'll be waiting for you," the creamy voiced, doorway lounging gigolo continued, "with my pheromones going all out. So, adios, my moist little kittens."

He blew us a kiss, and then slithered away, his maniacal laughter echoing up the corridor.

"Dammit!" a boy near me cursed, "What're we supposed to do?"

"I hate to admit it, but ten of us put together couldn't win against his pheromones!"

"Ah! You've got that right!" said a boy in glasses next to him.

I had to agree. You lot, in comparison, may as well be monkeys.

"Arima! Arima!" Yukino was saying, "you do it too! Don't worry we can win!"

"Hey, I don't want to! What're you saying?"

"Yaaay!" girls nearby got into the idea, "Arima too? Oooh!"

"Don't you care if we lose?" Yukino had him by his shirt collars now, "You're a class rep aren't you?"

"I said I don't want to! I won't do it!"

"Think about winning! Think about your class! They come first! Sacrifice your needs! Now come on, take your clothes off!"

"Mi… Miyazawa! Y… Your eyes are crazy! Oh, please, no!"

Some sort of combination interrogation/sex attack/debagging seemed to be going on around the reps front desk in the chaos that had once been a class culture fest planning session.

And these people would soon be old enough to vote.

I shook my head.

I went over to the window.

Maho turned to look up at me.

She was Coasting in Neutral again.

I slid the window open. Leaned on the sill. Warm clammy late summer breeze ruffled my collar.

"Going home to sleep," she mused, "was maybe the best idea I've had all year."

"Sometimes, Maho, I don't agree with what you say. But this time," I looked at her, "I do."

- - - oOo - - -

_01 – __04 July 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Forty Nine, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	50. The Play

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty – The Play**

14 Days / 2

**The End**

"All right! It's done!"

"Yay! Good work!"

"Hoo-ray, glad that's over," Aya and Rika celebrated, dancing with each other.

"What?…What the…?" asked Yukino.

"What have you been writing all week?" Tsubaki asked her.

"Mm? Oh, just a little script." Aya replied, "Remember? Tsubaki said our group had all the talents necessary for a play. It set something off in me and I'd been thinking about it all during summer break. Tsubaki and Rika can't do it because they're in clubs, you know?"

"I'm in the swimming club," I added.

"Yeah, but you're not going to be involved with their culture fest display. These days you just go along a couple of evenings a week and swim your ass off."

"Ah, yeah."

"So," Aya continued, "we have four in the Go Home Club. They're all interesting characters, so it was easy to think up something. I think this would go over well if we did it in front of an audience. Oh, by the four I meant Yukinon, Maho-san, Sakana-san and Tsubasa. How about doing this for the culture fest?"

"Huh?" we all responded, taken aback.

"Mm," said Tsubasa, eating something.

- - - oOo - - -

And that was the second day of term.

The day Aya dropped the bomb.

The bomb that would blow everything wide open: Arima and Yukino and Maho and me. All that happened, it happened because of Aya's play.

Well, that's a little melodramatic.

What happened with Maho might, just might have happened anyway.

But the play helped.

And thinking back on it, it was a damn good play.

It might never win any awards but it holds a special place in my heart.

It always will.

Because it was the first time she kissed me.

- - - oOo - - -

_05 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	51. Angry Okinawan Boy, Frustrated Roof Girl

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty One – Angry Okinawan Boy, Frustrated Roof Girl **

14 Days / 3

On the third day something else began. It didn't so much affect me directly but it was very amusing to see it happening.

That September certainly wasn't boring.

I was hiding from Asaba, Yukino and Arima over in 1-D's homeroom at lunchtime. Sometimes, just sometimes I could understand Tsubaki when she complained about Arima and Yukino climbing all over each other.

They didn't of course but one close couple among so many single girls did feel a bit odd some days.

They just got in your face, you know? Even when they weren't doing anything they were always together like Siamese twins.

It got a little tiring.

Now if some of the girls would get hitched it would be better, more relaxed. We could talk about stuff. I really wanted to see what Asaba would do around other guys. Would he mess around like he did with Arima, or was that just his wacky brand of Arima-love?

But no, Rika, Aya, Tsubaki and Tsubasa seemed committed to staying unattached.

And Asapin, though he was great and I loved him to bits, it got a little awkward around him too at times. He'd make these remarks and little jokes and more than he used to, he'd direct them at me or include me in his games.

And well, I just felt like he was giving out the wrong signal. Sure he might come round my house one evening and stay the night and do the most amazing things to me and next morning cook a beautiful breakfast and then leave.

Was he using me?

Quite possibly.

Did I mind?

You are you joking right? With a body like that? And him knowing what I wanted, what I craved? Him doing the most exquisite mind-bendingly beautiful things to me?

No, I didn't mind.

But one thing we were not, was an item. We weren't going out, we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. He and I had decided that ages ago. It was what I wanted because I wanted Maho and I didn't want other complications. And I thought it was what he wanted because he wanted Miss Right, and I wasn't her.

So I thought it was all clear cut and dried.

But at school in those first few days he did seem to think it was okay to include me in his games, in his jokes.

And I thought _Well, pretty soon someone's gonna catch on. And make a comment and it'll be out in the open_. Maho knew already. How much she knew (or rather how much she thought we'd done) I had no idea and I was grateful to her for being the kind of person who keeps her mouth shut about such things.

But I thought it wouldn't be long before Tsubaki realized that two and two really must add up to four, despite the fact that I was one of the twos and the other was (to her) the worst case of trouser-brained perverted boyhood on the planet.

And of course more often than not Maho would be hanging around 1-A's homeroom too.

So all things considered I was glad to get away from all that, I was just taking cover, making some space for myself.

The four of us were eating lunch when Rika came in, looking a little flustered.

I like Rika a lot. Child-like, sweet natured, elfin-faced, a voice of naïve calm, and fantastic breasts. I liked her even more when she's flustered, she's really cute.

"Tonami-kun!" she blurted out from the doorway.

"Hm? Who?" Tsubaki asked.

"A guy just transferred in yesterday, he's from Okinawa. His name's Tonami Takefumi."

"What? Takefumi's over here?"

My radar switched on. It was very unusual for Tsubaki to seem interested in a boy.

"No, no," Rika waved her hands about, excited. I looked at her closely. She was nice to watch when she was excited too (which wasn't often) because she jiggled beautifully. "It's not him. I thought so too but he's a totally different person. I saw this guy and he's really tall. Taller than Asaba-kun and he's slim and athletic. Brown hair. He looks like an athlete, a runner maybe. I guess there _are_ people with exactly the same names out there."

"Oh? Oh, how nostalgic. Takefumi. I hope he isn't getting picked on in Okinawa too," and Tsubaki clutched her hands together under her chin and made big eyes, as though enjoying a fond journey down memory lane.

"Aren't you the one who'd be in trouble if Tonami came back?" Aya asked her.

"Why?"

"Because you used to kick seven types of shit out of the little creep, that's why. You've calmed down a bit these days, but you were really something in elementary school."

"Tsubaki?" I asked, stunned, "You've _calmed down_?"

"Heh, heh, yeah. Oh, I was truly horrible in sixth grade. Last year of elementary school and into the first year or so of middle school. 'Til all this boring woman body hormone stuff started happening and then I changed a lot, it calmed me down. But before then I was a right nasty little thug. Isn't that right Aya?"

"Hm. She bullied this fat kid called Tonami mercilessly. All the time. He used to be her own personal slave or drudge or servant. She'd get him to buy her sweets, do her homework, give her money. 'Course he deserved it, he was a fat little rich loser kid. I bet he really resented it. If he came back he'd be out for revenge on you."

"Yeah, right. Today he'd be some fat _big_ rich loser kid. He ever comes near me, I'll kick his lardy ass to the other side of graduation day."

My eyes were opened. So this Tsubaki I was seeing was the calmer, more mellow, more feminine version. Yowza. That led me to visualize some pretty shocking mental images.

"C'mon guys, outside. I want to practice my dunks."

"Oh, Tsubaki, not again! You're not even a basketball player. Watching you miss the basket time after time gets old really fast," Aya moaned at her.

"Shut up troglodyte woman. You need to be outside in the sun, put some life back into your skin."

"Bye, guys, I'm gonna head on up to the library and go study," I got up.

"You? Study? Sleep more like! Anyway, bye."

"Yeah, later."

Tsubasa stayed in the homeroom, doing whatever it is Tsubasa's do when no-one's looking. Turn into trolls I expect.

The other three went outside.

- - - oOo - - -

I went along the first floor corridor towards the library. Below me was the quad and I could see Tsubaki bouncing a basketball, her eye on the ring. I couldn't see Aya and Rika.

She bounced the ball and ran forwards, jumped, pushed.

I leaned out the window.

The ball soared.

I looked at her legs.

She landed, a puff of breath.

Hm, she was wearing shorts under her skirt. Standard kit for sports girls, otherwise there'd be boys glued permanently around the quads at lunchtime checking for flippy skirts.

Not to mention me.

I don't mean _they'd_ be checking for _me_, I meant _I'd_ be checking for flippy…

Anyway… so…

"Nice shot."

It was Rika's voice. She must be sat on the wall below me hidden by bushes.

"Uhh, but she made us come all the way out here just for this?" Aya sighed, also invisible.

"At least the sun is nice. The warm weather won't last."

Tsubaki went for it again, bouncing the ball, sprinting and jumping. It soared, she did too, slim and elf like. She missed. She landed, squatted and straightened.

She wasn't my type at all but she was very nice to watch. She moved beautifully.

I folded my arms and rested my chin on them, getting comfortable. Studying in the library? Ha, forget it. I'd rather study this.

"And Tsubaki gets really serious when it comes to sports," the hidden Rika continued, "See, look at her expression. Doesn't she seem like a different person this morning?"

I had to agree. There was a light in her eyes, a focus that was never there when she was relaxing. I'd actually never bothered to watch her playing volleyball. Whenever she was at her club I was either swimming or enjoying a little bathtime self-analysis.

But I watched her now. She moved wonderfully, you could see the strength and energy in her body. There was power there but she had it under exquisite control.

But her eyes. They were a warm blue, almost a purple and they widened when she focused on that metal ring and she'd bounce ever so slightly on her toes, a coiled spring ready to fly. She went again, a leaping girl, beautiful. At sixteen she was probably at her peak. She might develop boobs and a heavier rib cage to go with them and bigger hips in a year or two and then that lovely lean machine would be forever gone, she'd just be different, would never move quite the same.

So, while she was like this, this elfin perfection, I watched.

I enjoyed.

It wasn't so much that I enjoyed watching her because of _that_, it was more a case of she was simply wonderful to watch. Here was a girl whose body was at that moment in time that may only last a few months, changing, changing. We were all changing and I felt privileged to be there that day and see that girl.

It was special.

And in a way a little sad, because this beautiful creature would soon be gone.

"Ready?" she called over her shoulder, "Keep your eyes open and make sure you don't miss this!"

There was movement to my left. A window two panes down slid open, a boy leaned out and watched. I looked at him.

He was tall and slender with very short brown hair. He seemed very serious and quiet. He had a rather withdrawn and watchful aura about him. His eyes were narrow and steeply slanted.

He wasn't exactly good looking. More hawkish. Aloof.

I looked at him.

He looked at Tsubaki.

I'd never seen him before.

He was tall, maybe he was a second year student.

Again, she missed. She was good though.

"Tsubaki said she's absolutely going to get the dunk right today," Rika's disembodied voice drifted up out of the bushes.

"Why would a volleyball player want to get a dunk right?" Aya sounded bored out of her head.

"It's Tsubaki! Everything has to be done right. Oh! That was close!"

"Aah! Next time for sure!" Tsubaki came around again, bouncing, bouncing, her toes light as air, hardly touching the ground. Her eyes lifted up and became things detached from her body, and the place around her. They became sharp beautiful things of _wanting_. You could see how much she wanted to do this.

I guess we're all the same in the things we really want. It must be how I look when I'm swimming and aiming to bust open that length record. It must be like Yukino is when she's studying. Aya when she's writing, Rika stitching, Asaba watching for that perfect wave, Arima at kendo, Tsubasa with a menu. Wow, yes, all these hearts and minds burning with the focus of youth.

God it's a beautiful thing. I'd never seen it before but all around me was this amazing vitality and strength and commitment in young strong people. It was a powerful, tangible thing.

Well, maybe forget Tsubasa.

But even so, standing there watching this vision I had like a moment of minor revelation and felt privileged to have understood it.

And Maho?

What was she focused on? Nothing at school, nor in sports. Her future career? Yes, that perhaps was her focus. I pictured her kneeling in her room at her low table, a medical journal open before her, a cup of tea in her hand, held there in space halfway between table and mouth, forgotten, while she became lost in a thing her life craved and wanted so much.

I imagined how her eyes must look.

I shook my head and made that image go away. It wasn't healthy to dwell on such things.

The boy next to me, whoever he was, he had a certain look in his eyes too. I watched him and tried to place it. There was a focus there too, hard, determined, purposeful. He was watching Tsubaki but he wasn't behaving like your average pervy boy. He was…? Angry? Sad?

That's odd, there was a mixture there of both.

It was as though he was looking at something that he longed for yet also hated.

He turned and those purposeful angry sad eyes fell on me.

"Uh, hi. Uhm, I'm Ryusaki…"

He turned away.

My "…I'm in class 1-A." faltered and stalled on my lips. He simply ignored me and returned to watching the girl below us.

_Well, sure, and I love you too, asshole._

"Come on, give up on it! I'm not taking care of you if you get hurt!"

"Oh, onegai! There!"

One more throw. One more miss.

"Tsubaki," Aya's voice called, "let's go back to the classroom!"

"Not yet! Not until I get the dunk right!"

I looked to my left. At some point during this conversation the boy had gone.

_Loser._

"I don't mean to nag, but you're on the _volleyball_ team remember?"

"One more!"

She moved smoothly, lightly, ran, jumped. The ball hit the wire and almost went through. It rolled on the edge for a moment and toppled out.

"Damn!"

The ball bounced and rolled. Tsubaki bent, hands on knees and sucked in air.

Then I saw him, the tall guy who'd been watching. He'd gone down there. He came walking very slowly up, hands in pockets past the bushes, past where Aya's and Rika's voices were coming from. I could detect a change in atmosphere down there. I guarantee they were looking at him.

He stopped walking and the ball rolled to within a few feet of him.

I saw Tsubaki straighten up and put a hand on a hip and watch him.

A few seconds went by in which he looked at her and she at him.

Hm, this was interesting. Tsubaki wasn't interested in guys was she.

Was she?

And yet, here, this little cameo right below me. Something about it told me she was interested.

The tall boy picked up the ball with one huge hand, open palm down. Hm, impressive. He bounced it a couple of times, brought it up under his chin, aimed and leapt forward, just one bounce, one pace and he was there, leaping like a super hero, he slammed the ball down through the hoop with one hand. _From above._

_Shit!_

_That_ was impressive!

_That_ was a dunk!

"Ooh! Yeah, awesome!" the invisible Aya and Rika called out.

The ball bounced and rolled away.

Once again, and they were now much closer, Tsubaki and he looked carefully at each other. Maybe ten seconds this long _wow_ type look lasted. Oh, yeah, something was definitely going on here. She either liked what she saw or she hated it, I couldn't decide which.

His face was turned away from me so his intentions were hidden.

He slipped his hands in his pockets and without a word, walked away.

"Who is _that_ guy?" Tsubaki asked his receding back.

"That's the boy I was telling you about from Okinawa," Rika was speaking, "Tonami Takefumi. The boy with the same name we knew."

"Huh. They are _so_ not alike!" Tsubaki scowled.

- - - oOo - - -

Lunch was almost over. I got up from the window sill as the other three went out of sight towards their block.

I was in a funny mood, emotional. That sight of Tsubaki focused. Those thoughts of my friends. And that strange exchange between her and the unknown boy. My head was swirling with funny thoughts.

There was a place I usually went to clear my head of them.

No, not the bath.

The roof.

Scene of so many great anime and manga moments.

Boy meets girl, boy kisses girl, boy fights rival boy, girl runs from boy. It all happens on high school roofs doesn't it?

I went up and out of the stairwell enclosure, turned left towards the shady side.

I stopped.

Someone was there, sitting with their back to the wall, knees drawn up and together, ankles apart as schoolgirls in anime always sit. You know, it's funny, the artist always draws them at a three-quarter front angle so that one of their legs hides their crotch, just so you don't get that ecchi panty view. Have you noticed that? I have. But then, I would, wouldn't I?

Unless of course you're watching ecchi anime where they show the panty view. But then you'd have to be one of those odd, slightly pervy people who like ecchi panty anime.

Like me.

Wow, sad. Looking at cartoon girl's crotches because it makes me hot. How tragic have I become?

But this girl. God, I'd love to walk in front of her and be able to see that view. It would be the high point of my day. My week. My life.

But I couldn't.

Not with this girl.

Because, you see, it was her.

Maho.

A person for whom the respect boundary prevented me crossing that line.

She had a magazine open on her lap. She'd been reading but now her head was tilted back against the concrete and she looked like she was dozing.

I'd never seen her like this before, eyes closed, totally relaxed. Vulnerable.

I stood for a moment picturing her like this on my futon…falling asleep one evening reading.

Beside me.

"Enjoying the view?"

I started and came to my senses.

"Oh. Hey there."

"Were you watching me?"

"Not. Not really. I wasn't sure whether to join you or leave you in peace."

"So while you made your mind up you thought you'd stare at me."

"I'll go if you like."

"Please yourself."

I went beside her and sat down. Knees drawn up and together, ankles apart. Hm, breezy, those skirts were ridiculous.

"What are you reading? We've had no home work set yet."

She flipped the magazine closed. The cover told me it was the _Tokyo Medical Analyst_. A man in a suit with a stethoscope round his neck and looking intelligent and rich leaned back against some large expensive tank-sized white scanning machine. Hm. Highbrow.

"I've just been having some really strange thoughts."

"Oh, yes?"

She looked at me, cautious.

"About us. All of us. How we are now. At this age, at this time. And how so soon this will all change."

"Ooh, sounds heavy."

"Well, maybe. But I was just watching Tsubaki practicing some basketball dunks and I'd never seen it before but she becomes so focused, so concentrated. Because she wants something so much. Her eyes are like. I don't know. Laser beams."

"Hm, I get you. Like Yukino when someone threatens to get a higher test score than her."

"Yeah, just like that."

"Or like you when you look at me."

"Don't, I'm serious, we're at that age. School or sport or the future career mean a lot. But soon things will change. We're growing up."

"We are. And there's love, too."

She reached between her thighs and picked up a couple of pieces of gravel. She bounced them on the palm of her hand a couple of times then threw them carelessly away.

I didn't say anything.

"We're focused on love, most of us. Yukino, Arima. Asaba – with his bedroom mirror of course."

"Uh."

"Me… you… All focused."

I noticed my heart beating.

"Maho…"

"It's alright, I'm not going to have another go at you. You made your intentions clear and I made mine, so we can leave it at that. But the silly thing is you're focused on something that's slipping away. And so am I."

"I don't understand you."

"I told mom and dad about Takashi-san," she drew a deep breath, leaned her head back again, "they were not impressed."

"Oh," I turned my head to look at her, "Gomen. That's bad. Don't they want you to see him any more?"

Hope. A tiny bright ray of it. So sweet. So hot.

"They want to meet him and – can you believe this? – _interview_ him. Like I'm some Muslim girl and they're arranging a marriage for me." She picked up more gravel, hurled it away, "It pisses me off. They have no right. I could get married tomorrow if I damn well wanted to."

"But you won't?"

"No."

"Why?"

"He doesn't want to. He won't. He thinks I'm too young." She emphasized the 'too young' with a silly whiney accent, "He won't marry me until he thinks I'm old enough. When I finish school. When I'm eighteen."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh, indeed. It makes me angry some days, people treating me like I can't make decisions for myself. I'm scared too, Sakana."

"Why? What of?"

"He might change his mind. Mom and dad might put him under pressure and scare him off. He was exactly the same when I was fourteen, he pushed me away."

"Well, yeah, that I can understand, but not now."

"Oh, he's just such a proper person. So nice and kind. He wants to do it all the right way. Some days I wish he was a pervy letch like most other men, so he would've had his wicked way with me a year ago. I could handle that." She paused, scowling, "Oh, he's lovely, he really is, so kind and I respect him so much, but…"

"What?"

"Frustration, Sakana, teenage girl virgin heat. I can hardly bear it. He won't touch me, he's told me he won't. I just have to put up with it."

"Oh. Er… I don't know what to say."

"For two years."

"Well, your wedding night will be amazing, think of that."

"And now my parents might scare him off completely. And if they don't in the meantime I lie there night after night alone thinking of _it_. I'm going insane."

I put a hand on her arm.

"Don't."

"I'm just trying to…"

She turned to me, her eyes were blazing.

"I said, _don't_, didn't you hear me? Don't offer me that!"

"Gomen, gomen, really I wasn't. I was just trying…"

She leapt up, stood scowling angrily down at me.

"I don't want to know what you were trying to do. Just don't…" she made fists and held them stiffly at her sides, "Don't. Touch. Me."

She turned on her heel and stormed off.

I picked up her magazine.

"Maho, I…"

She stopped, came back and angrily snatched the journal from my hand, then stomped away again.

"Maho…?"

- - - oOo - - -

_05 – 06 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty One, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	52. Tonami Takefum:Three Girls In A Cupboard

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Two – Tonami Takefumi / Three Girls In A Cupboard**

14 Days / 4

First thing in the morning mid-week and the news went round the school like a forest fire. The Kadai scores were up.

I didn't even realize. I was walking along, minding my own business on Planet Ryusaki when I saw Kawashima-sensei putting something up on the main notice area in the corridor behind the lockers.

I went up to him.

"Sensei. Ohayo gozaimasu." I gave him a small bow.

He turned to me.

"Ryusaki."

He inclined his head just a tiny bit. Which was nice.

"You may wish to take a look, something here I think will please you."

He packed up his things and turned to go. He gently patted my shoulder.

"I'm pleased too. Keep it up."

He went, I frowned at his receding back. Turned to the ranking boards.

I scanned down in the 200s, nothing. Then in the 180s, the 170s, still nothing. Then I stopped. 156. One hundred and fifty sixth in the year. I'd come in at 266 in March. A hundred and ten places.

Wow.

I'd climbed a hundred and ten places.

I stood there and for the first time in my life since I don't know when, since probably my kindergarten teacher had said what a nice picture of a cat I'd drawn, I felt it.

Swelling and blossoming beautifully in my chest.

Pride.

I was pleased with what I'd done. Pleased with myself.

It was a good moment, one of the best that week.

Someone came next to me.

"Hey."

"Tsubaki, ohi."

The other three close behind her, Tsubasa clinging around Tsubaki's shoulders, like she'd done the other day.

"What are you looking at?" asked Aya.

"That was fast. The scores are already posted," squeaked Rika.

I looked at the top of the list. Two names I expected to find were there, just as always.

"Wow," I said, "Yukinon and Arima sure are good."

Tsubaki frowned, muttering.

"What's wrong?" Aya asked her.

She pointed at the top of the list. Three names were there sharing joint first place. Arima Soichiro, Tonami Takefumi, Miyazawa Yukino.

"That dunk bastard is up there too."

"Oh, yeah," said Aya, "you're right. He's so smart."

"Ooh," Rika seemed easily impressed.

"Not bad. I guess."

We all turned at the voice. He was there. Tsubaki gave him such a black look. Wow, real fire and brimstone.

He calmly looked down at her.

"Where're you ranked?"

"I'm not good enough at school work to rank near the top," she growled at him.

"Hmmm…" he smiled.

"Aya, Rika, let's go. Catch you later Sakana."

She left, Tsubasa still clinging round her shoulders.

"Sure."

He and I stood there watching them go. Tsubasa looked back at him. I've never seen a perceptive expression on her face before but she wore one now. It seemed as though of all of them she, the dimmest and least in touch with the world around her, could see something they couldn't.

I looked up at him. Wow, he _was_ tall. I just didn't like him though. He had a hardness, a coldness in his face that creeped me out. He smiled at me but in an unattractive way, the smile went nowhere near his eyes.

"Do you know them?"

"Hm, a little. I'm Ryusaki, we met yesterday. So you're…?"

"A person she'd love to hit, but at least she's matured enough not to."

I decided I didn't like him.

I heard a voice, a voice I knew…

"Number one! Number one! Hurry up! Hurry up!"

Tonami looked again at the scoreboard, his eyes widened.

"Uh? Arima?"

Oh. Did he know Arima then?

"Oi, Miyazawa, all right!" Arima sounded like he was being dragged along again, as he always was.

He and Yukino arrived.

"Hey, Yukino!"

"Hi, Sakana."

"Ohayo Arima."

"Ohayo Ryusaki, alright?"

"Hm."

"Oh," he said, "we tied for first place. Aren't you glad? It's all fair now."

Yukino went up to the board and stared hard at it as though by willpower alone she could get the three number one ranked names to swap places.

"Hey, doesn't it look like I ranked third?"

"What? Where?"

"It does! And you look like you're first! That's so cheap!" she was doing her whiney voice, a voice that five months ago no-one outside the walls of her own home had ever heard.

"Eh?"

"It's not fair! You rank higher than me even if I work just as hard! In the end with my Miyazawa family name…"

She turned to him looking like a demon. Arima was lucky there were no guns or knives lying about.

I could see it now "High School Prodigy Murdered due to Chance Name Alphabet Ranking" the headline went.

"Oh, what does it matter anyway, ow!"

She'd turned and stamped on his foot, was grinding her heel over his toes.

"Oi, your foot! Get off!"

I glanced up at Tonami who was watching all this from behind a look of shock and disbelief. I sniggered. It was actually funny. I was used to how Yukinon behaved. It was always fun to see a stranger experience it for the first time. His face was great.

"Oh, really! Come _on_!"

"Right. I suppose all I can do now is marry you and get a last name starting with 'AR'," she joked.

Arima went the most amazing colour. Not just pink but bright red. He glowed. His ears, his neck. The lot. For a second I could imagine his entire body glowing red. Which brought up a very weird image. He could sell that power to the electricity company. It was impressive. I think I could even hear church bells chiming.

"What? Something wrong?" she had an innocent look on her face but I think she knew exactly what she was doing. Just trying to piss him off as pay back. I laughed out loud.

"Gomen. You two are so funny, gomen!"

"Uhm, you… you're…" Arima floundered.

"Come on, first period, let's go."

She grabbed his arm and swung him away. I watched them go.

"Rats. One more point. Just one and I'd have ranked by myself…" her mutterings faded down the corridor.

Other students were thronging round the ranking boards now too. I squeezed out of the crush.

- - - oOo - - -

"Who's that with Arima?"

I looked up from my lunch, a meatball speared on my chopsticks. Miyazawa had disturbed me.

She and Asaba and I were eating in our homeroom, talking about nothing very much. Asaba kept rubbing his ankle where I kept kicking it to shut him up.

I needed to talk to him alone to keep quiet about me and him in school. It was becoming a priority. I'd decided I'd grab him alone at the end of lunch when he went back over to the other block.

Arima had come in. Tonami was with him.

Now that had my attention. So Tonami _did _know Arima then?

"This is Tonami," he said, "We used to be in middle school together for a short while although his family moved away after just a few months into the first year. It's been a long time. We met just now, in the gym. So, would it be okay if he joined us for lunch?"

"Oh, in that case, sure," Yukino was chirpy and enthusiastic. Bouncy.

"No! Don't be friendly with other boys!" Asaba stood up and looked heartbroken, like he was about to faint, "Onegai! I'll never forgive you!"

"Get away! You're way too clingy," Arima pushed him off although Asaba tried to hang onto his arm. Then he collapsed weeping theatrically on the floor behind us, "Now, let's see. This is Miyazawa-san. We're both class reps in our class. Class A."

"Domo!" Yukino gave Tonami a dopey smile and wave.

"And this is Asaba. He's in class F. But you don't need to remember that."

"No way! Bitch!"

Asapin crumpled up like he'd been betrayed. He went foetal. I sniggered. What the heck the new guy must think of this freak show I couldn't guess. Had he run out screaming I wouldn't have been at all surprised.

"And this is Ryusaki-san. She's a friend of ours too, in class A."

"Vewy please to meet chew," I spoke in my best English and gave him a low bow.

"Kanahrin, your panties are showing," Asapin smirked from behind me.

"Surprised you're not in there like a shot, sniffing them like the sick bastard you are!"

"Ah," said Tonami.

"We met this morning. By the Kadai scores," I was all smiles again. Me and Yukinon must have looked like a couple of Cheshire cats on speed.

"Uh, yeah. We did."

Poor thing, he looked like he was already checking around for the nearest exit, or maybe the police.

"And Miyazawa and I are seeing each other," Arima finished.

"And I'm seeing Ryusaki's panties," Asapin sang from near the floor.

"Tonami-kun, onegai, sumimasen(1)," I turned to Asapin and gave him a pretty good slap. He howled. Then a kick in the shin. He howled again.

"No, no, noooo. First Arima gets a new boyfriend and now my favourite girl won't let me sniff her underwear any more… my life is ending… cruel fate, you are a contrary companion."

"So, welcome to our group. We're all good friends here," Yukinon jabbered on, grinning like a looney.

I went to sit down again so my underwear wasn't visible to Captain Creepy. I noticed that Tonami was wearing a suitably nonplussed expression. I suppose if he'd known Arima when they were about eleven or twelve, seeing him now in the company of us three reprobates must be quite a shock. He looked carefully at Yukino and I could tell what he was thinking. He was thinking _What's Arima the Perfect Untouchable Loner doing with a girl like her? He'd had offers from loads of charming well brought up girls in the past. So why the heck say yes to an oddball like this?_

"Come on," Arima suggested to him, "let's eat."

"Hm," Yukino beamed. It was almost a bark, like a small and rather zany doggie.

- - - oOo - - -

"Here, Arima. Say ahhh…"

She was doing it deliberately. To wind Tonami up. I could tell. She messed about like this a little but not that often.

It was a little later, we were eating and Yukino was trying to feed Arima a fish roll. She teasingly thrust it at his face with her chopsticks.

"What are you saying? No, I don't want it!"

"Come on, ahhh…"

I watched her. She was actually going for it. She had a lovely smile on her face and she did in fact look quite sexy. The way she said _ahhh _all soft and breathy, it wasn't the usual her at all, this wasn't a Yukino I'd seen before. Before summer break she was never like this. That was odd.

"No, I don't want to."

Now I looked at him. I actually think he did want to, just not here. Hm, so she fed him food playfully like that when they were alone did she? That was quite advanced wasn't it? Therefore…? My mind began to imagine various possibilities.

Asapin got up from next to me and went behind Arima and put him in a deadlock, pinning his arms, holding him back.

"Wha? What the heck? Hideaki! Baka! Let go!"

"Now here… ahhh…" and she opened her mouth and ran her tongue around, just a little.

They'd done it. I knew they had. Some time over the summer break, after he came back from his kendo event. They'd slept together. It was obvious. A girl didn't make beautiful sexy faces and noises like that without that sort of experience.

Well, that was a turn up for the books, the summer break had been a busy time for lots of us.

"No…no… I don't…"

"Hmm… making people do things against their will is such fun," she purred and slipped the fish into Arima's mouth. He gulped, choked and swallowed.

Asapin, still holding Arima, caught my eye. He winked. He knew making people do things against their will was fun too. Especially when they were tied up.

I suddenly had a recollection of a very rude memory but pushed it away.

Another time, Sakana.

I blushed.

"Yeah, it's addictive. Don't you think, Kanahrin?"

"Er… I don't know."

"What? Are you guys all crazy?"

Poor Tonami. He'd walked into the lunatic asylum.

- - - oOo - - -

"You're not eating with Sakura's group today then?" Arima asked Yukino.

I saw Tonami's eyes flicker at him when he said the name.

"No, sometimes, I just like to be with you guys. Besides, right now there's this little thing…"

"Huh?" Both Arima and Asapin became attentive, worried even.

"What? You're pregnant?"

"What?!" Asapin leaped up.

"Dammit, Sakana! Don't joke like that!"

I was laughing. The boys faces. Priceless!

There was a distant wet plop as the mouthful of rice Arima had been eating reached the ceiling and stuck there. He was coughing fit to choke and as usual had gone bright red. I think for a second there he thought she might be. His frantic blushing reaction was all I needed to know.

_Gotcha! _

Asapin being your average boy, dim-witted in these matters hadn't got it at all.

"Sakana, when you've quite finished killing my boyfriend! What I was going to say was Aya wrote a play for the culture fest and she's suggesting that Sakana and I perform in it."

"Hm, so we're in hiding."

"Together with Maho and Tsubasa."

"Really?" Arima sounded impressed.

Asapin had reached the bottom of his juice carton, his straw sucked air and made that funny farting sound.

I was pretty close to the end of mine too, so I slurped it up quickly and made my straw do sucky farty things too.

He did it again.

I did.

Him again.

Me.

I looked at him, he was looking back.

Sucky, suck.

Sucky, suck.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

Suck. Suck.

Sucky suck.

We both burst out laughing.

It was our private joke.

The others tried to carry on as though we weren't there. As though we were merely naughty misbehaving kids. But with two out of five people in a group laughing fit to bust it was hard for them to ignore us.

"Don't mind those two peasants, they don't rank number one in the school," Yukinon dismissed us with a wave of her hand.

"You should do it," Arima was saying, "I want to see it."

"No way," she bit back at him, "You're just making fun of me. I can't perform in front of an audience."

"Me neither."

"That's why we're on the run from her."

"What's this?" Asapin interjected, "Trying to counter my dinner show with theatre?"

"Shut up!" Yukino turned on him, cute zany doggie had turned into a rabid snarling monster, "Your attitude when you talk about that just pisses me off!"

"No, go on, do it. You do it!" He grinned back, "And I bet Sakana is really all repressed and just loves to perform in front of an audience!"

"Shut up! Poser boy!"

"You know, Arima," Tonami was saying, slightly pale and sweaty, "You seem to have changed a lot."

"Ah, Tonami, friends. It's what friends do to you."

"And ponces like Asaba. They do that to Arima-kun as well," I added, smiling.

- - - oOo - - -

After lunch fifth period was math and then sixth was a homeroom study period.

And that's when things got very silly. That's when the three of us, Maho, Yukino and I went on the run.

All of us staying in 1-As homeroom was asking for trouble, so we went down to the drinks machines.

I'd come back to the classroom after lunch, after walking with Asapin back to 1-Fs room and laying down the law to him about how he and I should behave in school.

Or really, how he should behave.

"All right, let's have a deal," he smiled at me in that syrupy way I know means trouble.

"Why aren't I going to like this?"

"In school I'll watch out. No more suggestive jokes involving you, nothing to be said that'll make others think we're seeing each other. All right? I'll be a good boy in school."

"All right."

"As long as out of school…" his treacly smile came close, way too close, "you be a bad girl."

"I knew I wasn't going to like this."

"A bad girl who needs discipline. A bad girl who needs to be taken under a firm hand. And _sorted out_."

I shivered, I knew quite well what him 'sorting me out' meant.

But really that wasn't such a hardship was it?

Not really.

Not if the bad girl got her reward at the end of it.

"Alright. Deal. But if you do let on that we're more than just school friends…"

What?

I didn't know.

Of course he knew that too. He knew that what he and I did together was something we both enjoyed and I didn't want it to stop just as much as he didn't either.

So I just had to trust him.

"I still love Maho. I need to remind you of that."

"I understand."

"I don't think she will change her mind. But I'm not going to give up on her. And if she does…"

"I'm outta here. I know."

"As long as you understand that. I'm not going to have a serious relationship with someone and still have you hanging about assuming that you can jump into my bed on the days they're not around. I need to be clear on that."

"I feel pained to hear it," He struck a tragic pose, "My heart will bleed but I'll understand."

"I'm serious, here. You be serious too!"

"Alright."

"We'll still have lots of fun, yes? Still see each other but nothing else."

"Let me know when it starts and we'll go out with a bang. One last time."

"Pervert!"

So I got back from the other block and Inoue met me in the classroom.

"Hi."

"Chiwas!"

"Sakana, that Sawada-san was here just now asking after you. Where were you?"

"Ah. Thanks Inoue. I'll catch up with her later."

At the beginning of our study period we couldn't stay in 1-A, Aya'd be round in five minutes.

The three of us left hurriedly.

Down by the drinks machines we sat, nursing drinks we didn't really want.

We were all panicky. We sat there, sighs all round.

"Good grief. With her coming every single day we can't even relax in our own homeroom," Yukino took a sip of her drink.

"Why me too?" Maho moaned, "I can't do acting."

"I think she picked you for your looks," I said

"Nah, she just picked me because I was there. Wrong place, wrong time."

"I wish she'd give up soon," said Yukino.

Suddenly she stood up, tense and alert.

"What's wrong?" Maho asked, getting upset, "What is it?!"

"Is she here?! She's coming?!" I stood too.

This was stupid.

Yukino put down her drink and went. At a dead run.

"Wha?!"

"No, wait a minute! Wait for me!"

We sprinted after her.

"It's gonna look bad. Three half finished cups in the drinks area. That'll be a dead give away! She'll start looking there now too!"

Yukino led us up to the roof.

We leaned on the railing, got our breath back.

"Whew!" Yukino gasped, "We should be safe here for a while."

"Yo."

"Ahh!"

All three of us yelped in surprise. It was her. The demon playwright from hell.

"Oh what a co-incidence, meeting all three of you here, of all places," she smoothly approached us, relaxed and victorious.

"I'll never do it, okay?" Yukino folded her arms, "There's just no way I could act."

"Oh, onegai. I'm not here for that today. I just want to talk to you guys."

"Really?"

Maho clung to Yukino's left arm, hiding slightly behind her. I hid behind both, peering out around Yukino's right shoulder.

"Yeah, really. See? I don't have the script for the play."

She stepped forward and held out her arms. At once an A4 lined pad fell out from under her shirt and thudded to the ground.

Written on it was "Culture Fest Draft."

"Ah," she said.

"Oh," I said.

"Uh," Maho said.

"Run away!" Yukino said.

We did.

Aya followed us.

"No, means no!" Yukino screamed back over her shoulder.

"Wait! Wait, Yukinon!"

Down the stairs, along corridors, around corners we ran, Aya in close pursuit.

Considering this was the most prestigious high school in the Tokyo Metropolitan area it always surprised me, as we ran headlong down those corridors screaming and yelling, firstly how rarely we ever saw another teacher and secondly how many students were scattered about during lesson time, striking fixed poses of friendship along the corridors.

But there was no time to dwell on all that.

We skidded round a corner and quickly disguised ourselves.

Yukino made circles with her thumbs and forefingers and held them around her eyes. She looked exactly like she was wearing glasses, nothing like her usual self.

Maho grabbed long bunches of her hair and held them out. Perfect pigtails.

I squashed my hands to my chest, pressing myself flat. With my short spiky hair I looked exactly like a boy. In a skirt.

Aya came past, looking around suspiciously. She didn't see us. We were three strangers.

"Huh, where'd they go?" she muttered.

She went past a little way down the corridor, came back.

"Hey," she spoke to Maho, who stood there, sweating, hair held out looking silly, "Did you see Miyazawa-san, Izawa-san and Ryusaki-san just go past here?"

"Uh, uh, er… they went that way," Maho waggled her right pony tail.

"Right. Arigato."

Aya walked away. Then she jumped back.

"Yeah, _RIGHT!_"

We fled.

"Guess it won't work at all," Yukino wailed, holding her circled fingers to her head as she ran.

"You thought it _would_?" Maho ran beside her, hair wagging stupidly.

"Don't ever bother going into costume design Yukinon!" I shouted from the back, hands still pressing myself flat.

We ran past three boys. At least their lower jaws lying across the hallway might delay Aya for a few precious seconds.

"Stop!" she shouted.

"No!"

"Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stooooooop!"

"No, no, no, nooooooo!"

"You could at least listen to what I have to say!"

"In here!"

Yukino dived right into a classroom.

Lucky. No startled second years. No angry sensei. No-one.

We followed her.

"Quick, in!"

"Oh, no!" Maho cried. It was a cleaning cupboard. Brushes and buckets.

"What?" I was stunned.

This was slapstick nonsense, this wouldn't be even remotely believable in any sensible fanfic.

I dived in after the other two, slammed the door behind me.

Uh, clearly this was no sensible fanfic.

It was dark. The metal cabinet had badly fitting doors so some light filtered in.

For the inside of a cleaning cupboard it was amazingly soft in here, warm and fragrant. I breathed in deeply. Oh, God. Heaven. I was…

Yukino one side, facing me, Maho the other. Pressed squishily and breathtakingly up against my back. We were squashed in tighter than sardines in a tin.

"You think we got away?"

Yukino's breasts moved against me as she spoke. I gurgled.

"She's really persistent today," Maho's breath tingled on my neck. Oh… no… I was melting.

"Uh," Yukino breathed in, she pressed more firmly to me. I could feel a major heart attack just seconds away, my pulse raced, "I wish there was some way she'd give up. Oh, I know!"

_Urr, God, don't make sudden moves like that…!_

"…If I say I'm busy with my culture fest duties…"

"That's cheap! Just you?!" Maho barked back.

Uh, I was already climbing towards that peak.

"I could say I've been roped into the swimming club event," as I spoke I worked out through the gloom that the soft, delicious smelling warm thing my lips were pressed to was Yukino's neck.

_Arima… you lucky bastard…_

My thoughts were shattered.

"You as well?! You two selfish bitches deserve to be caught! What happened to friendship? Hm?" Maho was indignant, "Whatever happened to that? Eh? Stand together, fall together!"

My God, how I'd love to.

Next time Yukino, pick a bigger cupboard. Or maybe a hot tub…

"What's with you?" Maho was shaking my shoulders, "What's with that dribbling, moaning noise?"

"Gomen, gomen…!"

Light. Bright and painful. Flooded in.

"But Arima has kendo club on top of his duties too," said Aya, holding the door, "I caught you."

_Damn._

_Go away, Aya. Leave us another hour._

_Better still, lock the door. Come back on Monday._

- - - oOo - - -

Resources Room. Five minutes later.

Tsubasa and Rika were with us.

"Theatre!" Aya was standing before us three. We huddled together around Yukino, hoping she'd take the brunt of Aya's wrath and have the right comebacks ready to save us, "Now I finally have your attention! You've been scurrying around hiding from me, but now you're going to hear what I have to say."

"We don't need to hear it," I said, "We said we wouldn't do it."

"You could at least hear me out." She stood there, arms folded, looking more than a little bit cross. I suppose we did owe her that much.

"Liar! That look in your eyes says you're trying to drag us into it no matter what."

Ouch. When Maho bit, she bit.

"It's not our style to perform in front of people," Yukino added.

Rather leaving herself open I thought.

"Style?" Aya retorted, "Strange you should say that Yukinon. Sure you came out, but you were once the masked girl who played the super beautiful model student all those years. And you stand there," she almost laughed in derision, "and tell me you can't perform in front of people? You of all people, should know the joy of captivating people in the moment when you become someone who isn't you. Have you really forgotten? Can you forget those days of admiration? Your days are so normal now. I think you miss it. Acting fills a hole in your heart! You cannot live without performing!"

"Oh. Shut. Up. As if I'd fall for such simple word tricks! No. No and no means no!"

"Damn!" Aya was furious, but crumbling.

"Tsubasa, you won't perform either, right?" I asked her.

She was sat at a table with a huge pile of sweets in front of her. Her chin was stained with chocolate.

She munched her way through a fistful of Pocky sticks.

"I don't really care."

"What?!" Yukino and Maho were aghast.

"So," Yukino sounded resigned, "she got bought off."

"What is she? A kindergartener?" Maho sat, watching Tsubasa, easily pleased, munching her way through the mountain of sweets.

"Come on!" Aya kept on, "Let's do it! Onegai! Do it! Let's dream a sweet dream together!"

"No way! If you want to do it so badly, do it by yourself!"

"No, Yukinon, I don't fit my image of the story."

"No, no. I won't ever do it!"

The two of them, Yukino and Aya were at deadlock. They both stood, glaring at one another, gasping for breath.

Finally Aya sighed.

"Hm. I guess it won't work after all."

"Nope, nope, nope," we all chorused.

"I knew it was really sudden. But I wanted to see it come to life."

"Ah, finally," we all sighed, "she gave up."

We al sagged down onto the tables, exhausted by our victory.

"I wanted to see it too," Rika said, still bouncy but a little downcast, "You'd all have fit perfectly if you'd tried it out. I wanted so much to make the costumes for the doctor and the androids."

"Doctor?" said Yukino.

"Androids?" said Maho and I, looking at one another.

"It can't be helped," Aya continued, "I don't want to waste it so I'll change it into a novel and have my agent take a look at it. Since I have it here, do any of you want to read it?"

What a fatal question that was. What a fatal question that turned out to be.

"Ah…" said Maho.

"Yeah. If I don't have to do it, then I'd like to see it," Yukino added.

"Er… android?"

I puzzled over that. Something about being an android was strangely appealing. Half human, half machine weren't they? That dichotomy spiked my interest.

"I always wanted to know what kind of stories you wrote," Yukino said, "Being a student author is so cool. Show me some of the stuff that got published next time."

Yukino flicked through the A4 pad, Maho and I each leaned over a shoulder.

"Uh, so it's sci-fi?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Aya answered, which I thought a bit odd, seeing as she'd written it. Didn't she know? "But it's set far into the future on earth. Androids have become mass-produced and like cars today are a daily part of our lives. They do everything, preparing meals, cleaning, working, security and taking care of our daily needs. But there's nothing strange about that, right? That's common to lots of sci-fi stories, right? Androids are the evolved state of the PCs and security and alarms and communications systems of today."

Yukino made a sound that indicated interest.

That bothered me a little.

She wasn't changing her mind was she?

How the heck could I go up on a stage and act in front of hundreds of people?

Come on Yukino, don't fall into Aya's trap!

"The main characters are the Doctor, the genius scientist who developed the core programming and mechanical systems of all androids produced on earth. The first, old-model robot that he ever made, called Antique, plays a part. Sigh is an interesting creation. She was a path of development that the Doctor abandoned after several attempts that ended in failure. Sigh takes a human body that is donated by a volunteer and grafts onto it boi-mechanical parts and a powerful computer brain. She's half and half combined robotics and digital systems with human form. And finally Neo-Model, the newest model android that's gone through many stages of design development. The story starts with Neo-Model coming to visit the Doctor. The Doctor has distanced himself from the cutting edge of science, and he's been living on a planet far from earth, all alone with Antique and Sigh, never seeing anyone."

"Why?" I asked the obvious question.

Despite my refusal to be involved this was an interesting sounding story.

"You'll have to read for yourself to find out," came the reply.

"Ah, you're amazing," Yukino seemed overwhelmed, "I don't know how you come up with these things. I think I'm good at academics, but I never think of things like this."

"It's because I'm not good at academics like you. People who can't find a good job through academic ability have no choice but to hone their talents."

- - - oOo - - -

Later, on the roof.

"I know what Aya said, but she's still amazing, you know?"

Yukino seemed to be in some kind of awe of Aya. I didn't know why, writing seemed to be a cursed occupation. All day like she'd been over summer, trapped indoors struggling with draft after draft, while we'd be out in the sun enjoying ourselves.

No thanks. I'll never be a writer.

"Neo-Model sounds so cool though," I had to admit, "It's fantastic what Aya has done, giving each of you characters that fit you so well."

"Shibahime as Antique fits well too, you know," Maho wore a thoughtful expression.

"Hm."

"And you as Sigh is pretty shrewd too. Half girl half machine," she continued.

"Oh, thanks."

"No, when you think about it. A girl who isn't like other girls, who's mixed up. It's right on the nail."

"She's right," Yukino was looking up at the sky, the clouds.

I thought about it. What did Aya know? How shrewd a judge of character was she? What had she surmised about me?

That bothered me a little.

No, it bothered me quite a lot.

Perhaps she'd not just thought about me but discussed me with Tsubaki and Rika?

- - - oOo - - -

_07 – __08 July 2007_

_(1) For notes on Japanese words, see my forum. _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Two, please see my forum (click on my pen name). _


	53. You Can't Have Such Strong Feelings

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Three – ****You Can't Have Such Strong Feelings Towards Someone Without Them Holding A Place In Your Heart**

"_You move on. One step forward… We don't realize it when we're walking. When we stop and look back is when we realize the distance we've walked." _

_- Kusanagi Kei, Onegai Teacher, Ep.12_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_"On a great road, sheep are lost at the forks." _

_- Kimura-sensei, Azumanga Daioh, Ep.4  
_  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

14 Days / 5

Things became lumpy.

Things became uncertain.

Things began to…

…degenerate.

It all started to happen at once.

And too fast.

Much too fast.

Suddenly it was as if learning at school became unimportant.

There was so much going on.

The days seemed to groan under the strain of it.

They were full of it.

Full of things.

And events, and people.

And changes.

I felt like the days would bulge and inflate and burst, so much was happening.

My head with it.

My heart too.

So much strain, so much that was puzzling, confusing and wonderful.

Perhaps partly it was me, inside me, changes in me.

Perhaps this was the next stage, adolescence, growing.

Blooming.

The school work was there and I suppose it filled our days.

The home work too. We must have had that too.

I just don't remember it. Even though it must have taken up most of my days and part of my evenings and weekends it seemed insignificant. A tiny meaningless thing.

Compared to…

…life.

As it was then. That September and the cooler weather as the rains came, as the year showed us it's first signs of ending, as we all ran around like crazy preparing for the culture fest.

It was so busy, so amazing.

Tonami Takefumi came into the school and he and Tsubaki struck against each other headlong, like two huge rolling rocks, their loud impact crashed among us sending splinters into our lives.

Yukino and Arima, their relationship came under such strain, it felt like at one point they would shatter and fly apart.

Asapin and I, we struggled to hold in check our crazy friendship. A friendship that wasn't just a friendship but wasn't love either. Our strong feelings for each other. Our lust. Hm, that's the only word to describe it. Several nights a week, perhaps three times a week we would meet and the intensity and plain simple dirtiness of what happened between us grew to the point where getting up and going to school the next day seemed almost meaningless, like life outside of the whirling fire of our times together just didn't matter. I'd wake up sweaty and exhausted and tangled with him and just want to do it again and again, school could go hang.

Aya's play. We went for it, somehow and for some stupid reason we did.

I don't know why. I think it was Yukino, the one so dead against it at first who went for it, dragging everyone along behind her just as she does.

Once she gets an idea in her head, an idea that to her seemed capable of winning us first place in the culture fest, she wouldn't let go. It was useless for us to fight it.

And Maho, her personal life was bending and distorting and straining her to breaking point.

So I want to tell you about these things, these amazing, exciting, confusing things.

I think the best way to tell you is to relate to you a long conversation I had with Yukino. Well, it was two conversations really. One in school one lunchtime when Arima was busy attending a kendo club planning meeting and we had the whole lunch period to ourselves.

And the other was a telephone call late one night.

"You alone today Yukinon?"

"Hm," her Big Happy Kitten Smile.

"Wanna eat outside?"

"Hm," another smile. She had a great smile. You couldn't help but be happy when she did that.

We walked in silence up past the sports pitches to the area of paths and bushes where she and Asaba and Arima and I had sat last semester.

We collapsed on the grass.

We ate.

"What do you think of this Tonami guy?" she asked me.

"I don't know. There's something odd about him. You know? He just hangs around a lot. Watching. It's creepy."

"He said something funny to me in the corridor a couple of mornings ago."

"Oh, yeah?"

"He asked me to keep a secret."

Whoops. Not good.

"About?"

"Tsubaki."

"Ah."

"Why do you say 'ah' like that?"

"I think she knows him. From elementary school, and middle school. Well, she knew _a_ Tonami Takefumi and I think she thinks this guy is him. He must've changed a lot though because I've seen them together and it's like she's not sure. Even when she stares at him closely."

"Oh she knows him all right. That all makes sense."

"How so?"

"I'll tell you. He said to me that if she or any of her group were to ask me if he was the same Tonami she knew in middle school, that I should say I didn't know."

"Why did he say that? It doesn't add up."

"Oh?"

"Well you didn't know him at all did you? You first met him through Arima, the day the Kadai rankings went up. You weren't to know he and Tsubaki had known each other."

"Hm, that's right."

"If anything he should have said that to Arima, it was Arima he knew in the first year of middle school wasn't it?"

"Right. Yeah, come to think of it, you're right."

"So that's odd."

"Hm. It's like… like he maybe wants me to let it slip to Tsubaki anyway," she had a box of Pocky and was sucking one, flipping the thin biscuit up and down in her teeth like she does with pencils when she's thinking hard. She offered me the box and I took one, nibbling it.

"Weird. I wonder why? Why go all around the houses like that. Why doesn't he just tell her?"

"Maybe he's got a crush on her."

I thought about that. Yeah, it was possible. I'd seen him watching her practicing her dunks.

"And," I remembered something, "Oh, yes. One of Rika's friends said something to her about what happened in the gym. There was a club practice session, the volleyball and the basketball clubs were there."

"When was this?"

"Only a couple of days ago. Rika's friend saw it all. Rika told me. They were practicing and Tonami came in. And apparently Tsubaki tried to stop him from even coming in the gym. It was a team training session but she's not even the captain or the coach, one of them should have done it, but she went up to him and was right in his face apparently. Club members only. Right in the doorway."

"Did they fight?"

"You bet! Tonami said he'd joined the basketball club so he came in and he and Tsubaki were like in each others hair for about five minutes, making snide remarks and passing insults and so on. The thing was he was all cool about it and had his nose in the air and wore this superior smile which seemed to wind her right up."

"I know what you mean, about him being distant and superior like that."

"So she was watching him play, just watching. And he comes up to her and says something like 'Why're you staring at me? You'd better not have a crush on me'. And she goes mental, they were hurling balls at each other. It was a real fight. The coach had to pull them apart apparently because no-on else could play."

"Wow. Violence in school."

"Yeah. Great, isn't it?"

"I think Tsubaki has worked him out now though, I think she's guessed it's him."

"Why?"

"I was by the drinks machines near 1-Bs homeroom this morning, just getting an orange juice before classes. They were together, he was going up the stairs and she called out to him."

"What did she say?"

"I hardly heard her but she said something like 'Could you possibly be?' and he turned and just gave her that look he does, you know, all cold and hard faced and stuck up."

"I know. That's the look I find so creepy. He's like a mind reader. Gives me the shivers."

"So he says 'What is it?' and she just went 'No, it's nothing,' and walked off. But she just had this odd air about her, like of defeat."

"We're gonna have to sit her down and get the truth out of her."

"Right. And yesterday lunch time. You went swimming."

"I did."

"You missed a good one. _Lots_ got revealed."

"Rats."

She leaned closer to me and tucked her legs to one side and under her. She looked around as if to make sure no enemy spies were listening from the bushes.

"I went and grilled him, I went into 1-Bs homeroom with Arima and Asaba. He was there."

"What did you say? What did he say?"

"I asked him why did he want to hide the fact that he was in elementary school with Tsubaki? Arima didn't know. It was plain on his face. So Tonami says he has his reasons and then he says to Arima 'I don't want you to tell Sakura-san that I'm that Tonami either'."

"Why? Why?"

She laughed, "Ha, that's exactly what Asapin said. So he got this photo out of his wallet. It was of a dumb looking fat kid, about ten or eleven years old sat at some really high class foreign restaurant in Europe. He looked rich but totally spoiled. Little piggy eyes. And Tonami said it was himself."

"Now I get it."

I did. I looked up at the sky, the clouds were thicker today, overcast. Rain coming soon, in the next few days probably.

Seasons changing.

Time changing.

People changing.

As a young boy he'd been a fatso. Tsubaki and Aya had said that when I was with them at the beginning of the week. So this guy in the three years between moving away to Okinawa when he was twelve and coming back to Tokyo now, had transformed himself from fat useless bully-roadkill into someone new. Tall, lean, fit, clever, healthy, athletic.

Wow. Impressive. I wondered what his motivation for that had been.

Yukino went on.

"Back then, he'd said, he was always being bullied. Tsubaki had been especially abusive to him, treating him as her personal slave. Errand boy, bell boy, desk cleaner, meal duty, home work duty, she forced him to switch lunches with her, she took his CDs and made him record TV shows for her, and she kept the videos. She even laughed at how fat he was."

"What a bitch. It hardly seems the same woman."

"She is though. And she had a deep effect on him. When he transferred out part way through the first year of middle school he decided he'd be a different person when he came back."

"He said that to you?"

"Hm. Have you seen his photo of back then?"

"No."

"He was hopeless. Very fat. A complete loser."

"So this change, in three years, is to get back at Tsubaki?"

"Seems so."

"Wow. I mean impressive yes, but, like it's twisted too isn't it. Isn't it? Sort of obsessional? You'd have to have a serious fixation to change that much just hoping for a chance to get someone back."

"Now, think about his face again and tell me that's a normal face."

I sat, looking up. Clouds scudded by. I made faces of them, shapes of animals. Yukino'd said something that clicked in me. His face. That cold, detached, angry and yet sad face. This boy had been fixed for three whole years on one aim, just one object had ruled his life from age twelve to age fifteen or sixteen. To lose all that weight, to get fit, to run, swim, cycle, do gym and eat sensibly. To focus on one thing and one thing only.

"…like me."

"Gomen?"

"I was saying I suddenly felt that he was just like me."

"How so? He must have been driven to do that."

"Just like me. As I was in elementary school and middle school. Driven to present to the world a person who I wasn't. I went through hell to create a persona, a mask I wore for the world to see that hid the real me."

"Rubbish. That's not what he did at all. He was a loser and improved himself in order to be better."

Like me.

Just like me.

He wasn't like Yukinon, he was like me.

The wave of hot revelation washed over me.

No, no, she wasn't like him at all. She'd improved herself so as to present a face to the world while inside being a different person, a fake person. Tonami didn't sound a fake to me, and I sure as hell wasn't.

"…agree with you."

"Gomen, my mind went off again. What did you say?"

"I can't agree with you at all. Both he and I took second-rate material and polished it hard until it shone, until it became first-rate. So I said I'd go along with his plan for revenge."

"You what?"

"I feel for him. I have an affinity for him. He struggled hard to get back at his tormentor. I struggled hard to be a success against the world. So he is going to have revenge on Tsubaki and I'm going to enjoy watching."

Something here didn't feel right.

"I don't get you."

"He and I are like allies in a war."

"What are you on about? It's nothing of the kind. He's not like you. He's an obsessed loser with a huge chip on his shoulder who thinks two wrongs make a right. He's not improved himself like you did in order to succeed in the world, he did it for one reason only. To hurt his tormentor. I can't agree with that. That's bullshit. That's no way to live. The guys a worse case now than he was before. This sucks. I'm sorry Yukino…"

I found I was standing up, her pale face and her eyes round, looked up at me in surprise.

"Please don't compare yourself to him. You and he are nothing alike. He's everything that's wrong, improving himself for the wrong reasons. Not like you at all. Don't you get it?"

She sat there.

"Well?" I asked.

"Uh. I think you're right. Just like Maho."

"What? What about Maho?"

"Uh. Oh, nothing."

What was this?

"What about Maho, Yukino. What did she say?"

"Gomen. I can't say, gomen."

And the girl I never thought I'd ever see run away from anything ran off.

I stood there, puzzled. What about Maho?

Tsubaki had been a class one bitch when she was younger. She bullied someone mercifully, had made their life hell.

I went back, went back through the years and the seasons, the dirt and the heartache to the time I was twelve, thirteen, fourteen. The hiding, the crying, the running away and being chased and taunted.

"Fatt-ee Ryu-sa-kee! Stink-ee Ryu-sa-kee!" the taunts followed me home, the stones they'd throw would sting my back and bruise my legs, cut me until blood flowed.

They would kick and kick and kick at the locked washroom cubicle door. Threatening me with a beating when they got in. They would urinate into plastic bags and throw them over the cubicle partition. They would set fire to papers and throw those over.

And I would go insane with fear and despair, screaming and screaming at the door, at the walls, at my tormentors.

They would go away but I wouldn't hear them and I would carry on screaming until blood came from my raw throat and the teachers were outside shouting at me to calm down.

YOU FUCKING BASTARD.

The worst three years of my life. My young life, a time when I should have been enjoying myself, growing up, delighting in the changes nature was causing in my body and in my heart. I should have enjoyed learning. I wasn't stupid. I'd been a bright kid.

I should have been discovering boys and discovering love. Instead, bullying had driven me to the brink of despair.

Why do children bully? Why do they do that? They have no idea what damage they are doing.

I threw my head back and screamed at the sky.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

"I'M FREE OF YOU NOW!"

"I'M FREE. YOU WON'T EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!"

"FUCKER!"

I sat down, weeping onto the grass.

Tsubaki. You stupid child. Why? How could you? I like you so much. We're not that close but I like you. I like you a lot.

And yet… why did you do that to someone? You had no idea did you? Old enough to hurt, but not old enough to know.

The world was a fucked up cruel place.

I couldn't sympathize with her.

She may as well have bullied me. Hurled her own piss over me. Left me screaming and stinking with fear and hate and self-pity.

Bullying isn't a joke Tsubaki.

And nor am I.

Yet could I let him do this back to her?

This revenge he planned.

Sure, I'd hated. My soul had burned with hate and loathing for years. It still did, I'm not ashamed to admit it.

It did still.

But I had learned to turn it aside, to let it go and to move on.

I knew what I wanted from life. I would go and get it. I was going. I was getting it.

Fixating on my tormentor like Tonami had for three years for the sole purpose of revenge was just.

Wrong.

Twisted.

I realized I was breathing hard, gasping in sheer bloody anger at these stupid people.

I had no sympathy for Tsubaki.

And little for Tonami.

But he was the one to talk to and try and end this stupidity.

I'd hated the person who'd ruined my life. I'd hated the people who'd bullied me. But revenge wasn't in my vocabulary. I'd turned away from them and that and dragged myself out of the pit for the sole purpose of having a better life.

Perhaps coming to Hokuei was my first act of fixing what was broken. Perhaps Neanderthal Knuckle Dragger me was the shadow of what I hoped to become. I was broken and back then, last year had perhaps been the first attempt to improve my life.

The people who bullied me had been mere stupid thugs. Dimwits whose sole joy in life was venting their anger on a bigger loser than they were. I'd somehow worked out even then that if I tried hard and got into the best school I could, I would get away from them.

Move on.

Move up.

Leave them and their dimwitted gorilla attitude behind in the dust.

I stood up.

I felt good.

No, I felt great. I'd made a discovery about myself.

My Kadai ranking had cheered me up no end.

And now for the second time this week I'd had a great feeling about myself.

And you know, it's true.

What they say.

Good things come in threes.

The last good thing would come right at the end of the week.

- - - oOo - - -

It was late at night and I was in bed.

The phone rang.

It rang and rang. I hadn't been asleep, I had just put a book down and was floating off and really would rather do that than tell someone they'd got the wrong number but in the end I dragged myself out.

I was alone, fortunately, Asapin was elsewhere tonight.

I never enquired where he went and what he did and who he saw.

I actually wasn't interested.

I had been curious early on but had told myself that if you start thinking those things it leads to possessiveness and jealousy and that means love.

So I didn't enquire and after a passage of time didn't want to.

I was cool with whatever he did with his privacy.

"Moshimoshi."

"Kanahrin, it's Yukino."

More and more of my friends were using my pet name. It was nice. I liked that.

I had arrived.

"Yukinon. Yowza. Need some help with the math problems?"

She chuckled.

"Nope. The day I need your help with math will be the day I jump off the Tokyo Tower. No, I've been thinking…"

"Ah. Sounds bad. Should I go sit down?"

"Nothing like that. Arima and I haven't set a wedding date yet."

"Okay, I'm sitting, what is it?"

"Aya's play."

"Oh, yes? Been having a read?"

"Hm. Tomorrow I'll photocopy it and give you and Maho and Tsubasa copies."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary, I'll just skim through Aya's copy when you're done with it."

"That won't work for rehearsing our lines."

"Ah, gomen? What? Did you say rehearsing? Why would we do that?"

"Practice. For when we do the play."

"Gomen, I'm half asleep. I'm not following you."

"Listen to this. 'At times I don't even know myself. Perhaps, by some strange chance I'm an android too? Maybe someone turned me into a machine when I was in that accident. Maybe I'm the only one who still thinks I'm human. Thinking such thoughts, I cut my wrists numerous times. I'm even suspicious of the androids that are absolutely loyal. Suspicion. Doubt. Jealousy. Self-defence. Prejudice. A sense of superiority. Self-consciousness. Arrogance. Oh, the ones who have learned their inferiority are not the androids, but their very creator! I love you androids from the very bottom of my heart. And I hate you so much that I can't stand it.'

"I saw it Sakana, suddenly, like in a dream – a beautiful soul and a dirty soul. The normal life of this Doctor before becoming a genius and the tortured life after becoming a genius. The lifelike in this play and the cool in it. Maho's character is so cool. It's exactly her. The Doctor, always agonizing, being torn apart by opposites. Damn It Sakana, I'm beginning to think we should do this!"

"Those were lines from the play?"

"Hm, lines my character speaks. I've read it right through. Sigh, your character is really interesting too, she's really mixed up and confused and trying to find love, but half machine and half human it's messy. I think you'd like it."

It sounded a little close to home to me.

"Well, let me read the script then."

And so it continued, so the thing slowly gained momentum. Perhaps Aya wasn't stupid, perhaps once we'd seen it and read it she knew we'd want to do it.

- - - oOo - - -

And finally, the next day, a chemistry lesson. I was walking with Maho from the chem. lab back to our homeroom. We weren't talking, or if we were it wasn't about anything much. Just two friends shuffling mindlessly between classes, coasting in neutral.

Two people came along the corridor towards us. It was Tonami and Tsubaki.

Both wore deep painful scowls, teeth gritted, jaws set. Hands balled into fists. They marched side by side along the corridor.

"Hey," Tonami turned to her, "quit walking next to me. The hallway gets narrower when you're around."

"Why should I give way to you?" Tsubaki retorted staring at the ground, "I'm heading this way too, so get out of _my_ way."

"Move it."

"No, you move it."

They stared at each other, the pain of being next to the other was obvious. I waited for the fists to fly.

"Man," he said, "I wish I was walking next to a cuter girl."

"I'd rather be walking with a girl too."

They passed us and their mutterings continued until they reached the corner and turned out of sight.

We watched the space in the air where they'd been.

"They're in love."

I turned to Maho. Her face was deadpan, she was looking back in the direction they'd gone.

"What?"

"It's obvious, look how much she hates him. So it's obvious she loves him. You can't have such strong feelings towards someone without them holding a place in your heart."

I stared at her. She sighed and turned to me. With one slender delicate finger she tucked her hair back behind her ear.

"What're you looking at?"

"Uh."

"What?" she gave a small smile, "Afraid I'll stop hating you? C'mon, your favourite subject, classical Japanese is starting. You don't want to be late."

As she turned and took a step, her hand came against my elbow and guided me away.

- - - oOo - - -

And that was the third of three.

I don't know what it was about that comment that caused me to fly, but it did.

Something.

Something in her face, her voice, her eyes.

I'd seen this face, heard that voice, drowned in those eyes so many times.

Nothing about them was different.

Yet everything was.

Her hand.

On my elbow.

Warm and gentle.

And for a moment, the briefest and tiniest of delightful moments.

It had squeezed me there before it fell away.

- - - oOo - - -

_09 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Three, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	54. When A Snowball Begins To Roll

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Four – When A Snowball Begins To Roll **

14 Days / 6

Hokuei high school quad, early one morning. Students filing in through the gates.

"Arima! Arima!"

He turned.

"Ah, Ryusaki. Ohayo."

"Here."

I pressed the folded sheets into his hand.

"A little gift, a little piece of espionage. Show it to Yukino when you get the chance, I think she'll be interested."

"What is it?"

"Something I managed to twist out of Asapin's sweaty little paws. But don't tell him I gave it to you, and don't tell Yukino where you got it."

He opened the packet of papers. I watched his eyes widen.

"Oh."

"I thought you'd be interested too."

"What?! Doujinshi?"

"Well, it's all still at the planning stage, so I don't know if they intend to do it all."

"Ryusaki. Arigato."

He looked a little perturbed by something. The yaoi manga with him on the cover I expect.

"No problem. Later."

I raised an arm and left.

- - - oOo - - -

That lunchtime, 1-Ds classroom.

"I've thought about it and I think maybe I'll do the play after all."

It turned.

The snowball, sitting on a slope was pulled by gravity and made it's first turn.

It moved.

Yukino's decision was the first pull.

"Uh?" Maho grunted, shocked to the core.

"Really? You'll do it?" Aya's response, bright and amazed was almost the opposite of Maho's.

"Yeah," Yukino seemed to be taking the final mental step right now as she spoke, "I thought about it and I decided to do it since it was bothering me anyway."

I sat watching Maho. She'd got out of her seat and was edging towards the door. I caught her eye and shook my head. _Running never works_, I mouthed at her, _not from Yukino_.

Aya was now excited, her face beamed. Lit up like that she actually had a certain cuteness about her. I'd never say she was pretty, but grinning and lively she had a certain something going on there.

"Oh yeah! You've really made my day!"

"And I'm going to debut as an actress!" Yukino, in her childish way, was pleased too.

As for me, I just wasn't sure. Acting. On a stage. In front of dozens of people. Not my scene at all as you know. Well, no, I'm not being honest. I was sure. Sure I didn't want to do it, but equally I was sure that once Yukino decided she _did_ want to do it, it would be pointless for me to argue, so I went with the flow. No way could a mental weakling like me stand up to her once she'd made her mind up over something like this.

So I stayed quiet.

Maho didn't.

"I am _not_ doing something like those cheesy comic book high school dramas."

The old Maho had entered the building. She stood there, arms folded. I watched her, and dead on cue she leaned back against a desk and crossed her ankles too. Then I noticed that even though it was early September and still hot, she'd begun wearing the black winter uniform thigh socks again.

Hm, maybe she had a thing about that. They were kind of like stockings after all.

I mentally filed that one away for later discussion with her.

Wearing that look, that defiant angry frown, striking that pose – I loved her.

Yukino went to her and with a wide demonic grin splitting her face, and looking thoroughly evil and bossy she said, "Maho-chan!" and in a friendly way let a hand fall heavily on her victim's shoulder.

"No!" her prey stubbornly looked away.

"You thought that script was good too though, didn't you? The characters are based on the four of us to begin with, so each of our roles was made for that person. All things considered, Aya's done a good job of observing us, you know? Ever since I read it the Doctor keeps talking to me in my head. That means the character is beginning to grow inside me right? Isn't that amazing? I've always been able to complete tasks that were given to me but I've never created something of my own, so I'm really looking forward to this. Come on, _Mahorin_, let's do it together. If you're with me, I'd feel better…"

_Mahorin? Cute. Hm, I liked that._

"Look at my lips Yukino. I. Am. Not. Doing. It," the beautiful black-haired girl remained stubbornly closed up.

God I loved her like this, when she acted tough, she made my legs turn to water.

"What the hell?" Yukino was getting excited now, "I'm saying let's do it! So, dammit, you damn well better do it!"

"Piss off!"

"Urgh!" Yukino put an arm round her shoulders, holding her close and thudded her fist into Maho's gut. Maho folded over in pain.

Yukino's voice came quieter, calmer but even more sinister.

"Look, my darling, you're the one who organized the class to give me the silent treatment. You can stage manage with the best if them. I always act happy but ever since then, I've been afraid of people, like a kind of paranoia."

"Oh, come on with that crap. That's complete crap you're talking and you know it. Your personality's damaged Yukino, but it was warped and twisted long before I met you."

"Ooh, that's cheap! Emotional scars never do disappear, you know."

"So you think giving me some is the way to win my heart?"

Yukino put her face close and that twisted black look came back. She'd only need a black cloak and a Phantom of the Opera mask to make the evil impression complete.

"If necessary… yes. Now, do it. Or suffer…"

"Damn you, you're sick."

"All right!" Yukino shouted in victory, "Maho says, she'll do it!"

"I know this is something I'll regret, this play is gonna suck, school plays always do. I don't do uncool."

"Me neither. So with me here, it won't be."

Yukino turned to me.

"And now," that evil grin returned, like some Nazi interrogator she leaned threateningly over my desk, "Pretty little Kanahrin. Kawaii little sweetie pie Kanahrin. You'll do the play won't you?"

Her treacly smile dripped over me.

"Sure I'll do it," I smiled easily, like some kid at a carnival being offered a free ride.

_For you Yukino, anything_.

_Just don't kill me._

Maho stared thunderclouds at me.

"Traitor!"

"The end result was never in doubt," I retorted, "Why suffer humiliation and defeat on the way?"

"Because putting up a fight is the whole point, baka! Roll over and take the position of submission if you want, I'm a fighter by nature." She pointed a finger accusingly at me, "I'll remember this next time you need something from me."

_Ooh,_ a wicked tingle went down my spine. _I'll look forward to that._

- - - oOo - - -

Yukino came back to the classroom fifteen minutes later. She looked gloomy.

"I spoke to the student council president, he said we can't put the play on."

"Oh," Aya and Rika looked downcast.

"Oh dear, what a shame," Maho so looked like she meant it.

"They said we'd need too much stage time, we'd left it late to organize it and that we weren't a formal club and that we were amateurs."

"Amateurs?"

I looked at Maho. That had hit a nerve.

"Who says I'm an amateur?"

"But I guess it is too sudden after all." Aya was saying.

Yukino looked at Maho.

"Dammit! No! Leave it to me! Negotiations of this sort are my speciality. I'll make it happen somehow."

"Ooh, promising!" Rika gushed.

"Amateurs?" Maho was still shaking her head, "But even so, it's the timing of it. They said it's not possible, if there's no stage time, so why don't you just give up? I'm still no big fan of this, I'm not doing anything for it. All I'll do is say my lines and that's it. Got it?"

"Oh, scary, the old sassy Maho is back. Nice to have you along. I'm already fighting the whole student council, so I'll happily fight you too."

"Yeah, sexy tough Maho is back," I said, half fantasizing.

"You can shut your trap as well," she glowered at me.

It was a good thing I was sitting. My legs would have buckled under that fiery gaze anyway.

- - - oOo - - -

At the end of lunch we had another study period. Study periods were unofficially allowed to convert to culture fest planning sessions now, so after the formalities of the teacher registering us back in school for the afternoon, we gathered back in 1-Ds homeroom again.

Yukino threw the papers on the desk.

"What's that?" Maho asked.

"Take a look. Have a good look," Yukino went to the window and arms folded, stared at the sky.

I knew what it was.

Maho picked it up. Aya and Rika looked over her shoulder. For the sake of appearances I did too.

"Oh!" Rika squeaked.

"Wow!" said Aya.

"Bastard!" Maho cursed.

"Yaoi manga?" I feigned surprise.

"Where?" Rika asked.

"Not for you," Aya said.

"Hm. Mitchy. Takarazuka. What? Julie?" Maho looked at the costume sketches that Asaba would be wearing at his dinner show, "Baka! This is serious stuff."

"Isn't it?" Yukino said from the window.

"Even if it is all cross dressing, vaudeville type stuff. Damn, this is gonna be one weird show," Maho seemed strangely flustered by the fact that Asapin was dressing up in the style of infamous Japanese transvestite showgirls.

Even I thought it a little creepy. I mean how well _did_ he know those Shinjuku lingerie departments? And more worryingly - why?

"Look at all this…" Aya sounded like she was spacing out. I'd seen it all already. There was a lot to take in. And if they pulled off even half of this, beating this show would be a tough call.

Fukada, class 1-Fs rep, certainly knew his stuff. I wondered if he was into media studies or something, or maybe marketing. He was good. The tie-ins with the dinner show were all geared up for one purpose – to make money: note books, pencil boxes, pen holders, telephone cards, coffee mugs, mobile phone straps, watches, ball point pens, laminated gift cards, posters, handkerchiefs, mascot dolls, lockable diaries, 1/6th scale figures, art books, poetry books, manga and doujinshi, the Asapin Official Guide (whatever the hell that was), an Asapin strip calendar "Twelve months: twelve items of clothing, countdown to your perfect Asaba Christmas!" the tag-line screamed.

Whoa, was the collective opinion.

"No way," Maho grumbled, "this has got to be a joke. 1/6th scale PVC figures? Nude calendars? How is a high school class going to produce those? This is a wind up, it has to be."

She turned away in disgust.

But real or not it showed serious commitment and the printed material, the manga the art books and the posters and so on were all practicable.

_Nude calendars eh? I might buy one myself._

"But at least I got something helpful out of Arima when I saw him just now."

"Oh yes?" Aya turned to Yukino who'd faced the room again.

"He said we need sponsorship from a teacher, that'll get us funding and resources we'd otherwise never get, and maybe we'd get some rehearsal space and storage space for our sets."

"I can't think of who we can approach."

"Our form master and year master of course, if he can't help he'll know someone who can. Who's coming?"

"What? Now?"

"Yes, of course now, why waste time?"

Rolling a little quicker now.

None of us wanted to miss this, we were all coming.

Except Tsubasa, she stayed and stared at the view.

And Izawa _I'll just speak my lines_ Maho of course. She actually got a chemistry book out and _worked_. In culture fest preparation fortnight. Was she feeling alright?

- - - oOo - - -

Seven minutes later. In the office of the year-master.

"What do you think, Kawashima-sensei?"

The teacher didn't answer for a minute. He continued to study the A4 pad in his hands, flipping pages.

"Hm. So, Miyazawa, you say Sawada wrote this?" the rather dry and stern year-master pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to Aya, "My field is mathematics and I'm not very knowledgeable about literature but this is a great surprise." He waggled the script, "I had no idea you had such talent."

"No, I just jotted down the stuff that came to mind so it'd look good. It's just a farce really."

"No way!" interjected Yukino, "It's a piece Sawada-san wrote from the heart that addresses the issues that concern her."

_It is?_ I thought. _Steady on Yukinon_. I thought it was a sci-fi story.

"And you want to perform this at the culture fest? I think that's excellent. This is the kind of material that's worthy of a culture fest. In the past we had more performing arts but since the school drama club shut down a couple of years back most students are happy to just run stalls that are no more than shops, cafes or similar entertainments. But this. This is the real thing. The school should support this sort of endeavour. I will submit a recommendation for you."

"Arigato gozaimasu." Yukino actually gave the sensei a small bow. We three followed suit, "And about the procedures for actually getting the play onto the stage. We don't really know what we need to do, so would you be able to tell us?"

"It would probably be best to get a teacher to sponsor you. Since you have a great piece here you should be able to get them to treat you as a temporary club which will make you eligible for funding."

"Oh," chirped up Rika, "then we'd better find a teacher to sponsor us."

"But who?" Aya asked.

Kawashima-sensei coughed.

"We should probably try to get a Japanese language teacher."

Yukino always took the positive line, was always on the attack.

"Do you guys in 1-D know any well?" I asked.

Kawashima-sensei coughed again. I looked at him. He looked at me. Thicko that I am, I didn't get it.

"Not really," Rika tapped a finger to her lips.

"And we definitely want someone with a voice on the student council," Yukino ticked off another point.

Kawashima-sensei coughed a third time, louder. Loud enough for us to shut up and wonder if he was coming down with something.

"Well, I did a little theatre back in my school days," he said.

"Pardon?" four girls politely checked their hearing.

He looked at us then tilted his head down and looked again over his glasses, like a friendly and slightly mad old professor.

"That is, if you'll have me."

Gathering speed… taking on a momentum of its own…

We would have him. We'd have him very much. He was perfect to have. He was one of the more influential and senior teachers in school. I looked at Yukino and saw on her face the same thoughts as must be lighting up mine.

Funding. Influence, Resources raining down on us like manna from heaven. Doors standing invitingly open, Kawashima-sensei angel-like smiling benevolently as he held them wide. Other groups looking on at us with envy and not a little loathing.

"Oh, yes!" four girls chorused with delight.

- - - oOo - - -

"Yay! We were so lucky to get Kawashima-sensei to sponsor us. After all he's the year-master and the faculty class advisor! Power! He's got power!" Yukino rubbed her hands in glee and almost skipped back to 1-Ds room, "Just leave this to me," she sang, "I'll use this to grab loads of funding for us."

"We're lucky to have you on our side," Aya sounded awed.

"Hm," I was thoughtful, "At times you can be a crazy annoying tyrant Yukinon, but there's no denying you're a useful person to know."

"And don't you forget it," she poked a finger in my face.

"Humble too, that's nice in a person."

"I always thought Kawashima-sensei was a lot scarier," Rika said, "Now that we've talked to him, he's really nice isn't he?"

"I fought him once. And won."

"You did?"

We all looked at Yukino.

"Hm, that time he called Arima and I into the student discipline room because our grades had fallen at the Kimatsu test at the end of June. He and I had a big row…"

"You _argued_ with him?" Rika sounded incredulous.

"And he eventually saw things from my point of view."

"Whoa, are you taking his job next?"

We chuckled at Aya.

Then we looked at Yukino. She was thoughtful, arms folded, a finger to her lips.

"Hm," she struck a studious pose and considered the option.

And that just made us laugh more.

- - - oOo - - -

The next day. The snowball was rolling nicely now. Bouncing down the hill. More snow stuck to it.

Yukino went (no, _ran_) over to the student council office at ten minutes to three with our formal application in her hand. Culture fest event applications, fully signed off with a formal proposal and sponsoring teacher's signature had to be in by three. Yukino had to not only draft the application and get it signed and countersigned, she'd also made a special application to form a club. Only recognized clubs and whole classes could propose events, otherwise it would have been anarchy with groups of friends putting on dozens of small displays each one puny and all a drain on the limited resources. She made it with four minutes to spare.

We were official.

The following morning the notice boards carried the final list of culture fest proposed events. I stood looking at the list. My name was on it.

"Drama Club. Play: 'Steel Snow'. Club members: Miyazawa Yukino, Izawa Maho, Ryusaki Sakana, Shibahime Tsubasa, Sawada Aya, Sena Rika. Event Sponsor: Kawashima Hayao. Seconded: Enomoto Y. (head master)."

My name. Not quite up in lights, but close. And Kawashima-sensei had got the club approval countersigned by Enomoto kouchou-sensei. Top man in the school. The Boss, we called him. He literally owned us. We hardly ever saw him except at official assemblies when important notices were made.

Oh, my word, the headmaster himself.

Lots more snow, good quality snow, moist and sticky. The ball was heavy now. And faster. Almost unstoppable.

That was it, there was no turning back now. We'd made our bed, it was time to lie in it.

My God. I was going to stand on a stage. In a spotlight. And speak in front of people. I could feel the fear creeping up my spine already.

"So," a gentle, deep, soft voice was at my shoulder, "now we're in trouble. Are you looking forward to it?"

I turned to the girl who was the centre of my world.

"No, Maho. I think I'm going to wet myself with nerves."

She looked at me, one eyebrow went deliciously up.

"Oh, dear. And we've not even begun rehearsing yet."

She put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll keep an eye on you. Me and Yukino. But mostly Yukino. I still can't work out what the hell I'm doing here, but at least I'm confident of learning my lines."

"I'm not."

"You will be. The alternative - failure before Yukino the Slayer is _not_ an option."

The _not_ was emphasized with a harder squeeze.

The idea of suffering at Yukino's hands in the way Tsubasa had suffered, and Maho herself had been defeated didn't fill me with comfort and hope but at least I knew the best possible person was right behind me.

Something like the political commissars in the Russian army in the second world war. If the soldiers turned and ran away, the commissars shot them.

Incentive, yeah, it's good to have incentive.

- - - oOo - - -

A synopsis of the play was deposited with the festival council so that people could read it if they needed to. There were various official reasons for this, allocation of funding and resources and room or floor space being a few.

But curiosity came into it too and many students read it and picked up on the gist of the play's plot. Suddenly people were hanging around us asking questions and acting all fangirly, and of course, fanboy-y. Yukino was used to this, Maho too to some degree I assumed, although I saw her at her desk once, in traditional pose with chin on elbow looking hacked off. Around her, a veritable Maryland Project cast gushed and coo-ed at her.

"Maho-san's going to play a robot!"

"No, a man!"

"A man? Ooh, she'll look so cool!"

"You'll make such a handsome man, Maho-san!"

Tsubasa too was chased and hassled but she just bit and scratched at her tormentors and they kept their distance.

But me?

Most people went,

"Who?"

"Ryusaki? The swimmer?"

"In a play? She can't open her mouth in class without fainting with nerves!"

"Sakana-chan, are you in this play of Sawada-san's?"

"It seems so, yes."

"Wow. Have you got your sick-bag ready?"

_Hm. Arigato guys. That's the kind of support I need._

- - - oOo - - -

I was with Yukino the next day, the last day of that week. We had only a week and a day to do this. I had little faith, this was impossible.

"Kanahrin, you forget who you're in this with. Miyazawa will get us through this, don't doubt it for a moment. This is pressure! Pressure! Ridiculous deadlines! Hard work! Damn, I love it!"

We were on our way at lunchtime to our usual planning bunker, the resources room. The others were already there. Aya, Rika and Tsubaki chatting at a desk. Tsubasa and Maho sat off to one side, each alone, uninvolved.

Miyazawa sat with the other three. She took charge.

"Let's think about the whole breakdown of tasks."

"Hm. What kind of tasks do you have to assign?" Aya asked her.

"Costumes are Rika," Yukino made a note on a pad, "Then we have sets, props, sound, lights, hair and makeup… hm… dressing rooms, finding a place to perform the damn thing… This is going to be hard for us to do by ourselves. I guess we need stagehands."

"And it doesn't look like we can expect any help from Maho and Tsubasa," I said glumly.

"Then I'll ask some of the girls in the volleyball club who have free time," Tsubaki broke in, "There's a lot of them, and they're strong."

"Really?" Aya sounded pleased.

"Arigato," Yukino looked up at Tsubaki, standing over us, "You're always there for us."

"I am?" the slim girl seemed puzzled by this, as if Yukino was complimenting her because she'd soon want something in return, "Uh, don't mention it."

"For props can we just bring whatever we need from home?"

"If it's of suitable style, yes," said Aya, "remember the context of the far future. I'll go through the script again and write out a list of what we need. There's food dispensers, a tea service, plates and so on. And computers and things. We need a big video screen.

"And I want to think hard about what music to play, and its timing is important. I really want to focus on that," Aya was really getting into this.

"Sounds good. It's starting to work," Yukino added.

"Konnichiwa..." a dreamy voice spoke from the doorway.

"Huh?" we looked around.

He slid in, smoothly and slimily like a snake, and came to the desk. He leaned over Yukino, right into her personal space, his face beside hers, almost on her shoulder. She didn't flinch back an inch.

"And what is this group of beautiful maidens sitting around discussing, hm?"

"Asapin!" Yukino shot him a black look.

"You know, ladies, if you have a problem, anything at all, just let me know. I'll solve it for you, no matter what it is."

"Ah, no! Get off!" Yukino picked up her planning pad protectively, "Don't ooze your pheromones all over us, you'll make a mess!"

"Heh, heh, heh, heh," he chuckled like treacle, "Miyazawa, you're such an ingénue."

"Get out of here. Just go and prepare for your dinner show or something."

"My classmates are doing all that work for me. So I have nothing to do but spend these lovely hazy days of summer with you delightful creatures."

Tsubaki stood behind him, she folded her arms and an elbow poked him in the side.

"Sorry," she spat, obviously not.

"Oh, so you're preparing for your play? How sweet. Will you remember your lines? Kanahrin, do you think you'll be puking by the first act or the second? And you'll need stage sets too though, huh? Such a lot of work. But if that's the case I can help you there too, you know."

"Eh? You, Asapin?"

"Oh, yes," he didn't once drop the creamy, luscious voice and the posturing, "You're looking at the man who had all straight tens in art. You want some drawings doing, or paintings, or set design? I'm your man. As I am in all things."

He winked at me. I blanked him.

"Oh," Rika spoke, happy and bright as always, "I've seen Asaba-kun's sketches before. They're really good. He's got a good eye. Individual style."

Asaba turned slowly to her and gave her a big grin and a double thumbs up. She smiled prettily and he patted her head.

"Welcome back to the fold my little lamb. You've been away far too long, I've missed y... Ay!"

Tsubaki had whacked him.

"Hands off!" she grimaced.

"Okay then," said Yukino.

He sat down, made room for himself, "So, how are we going to do this?"

"Hey, don't suddenly come in here and just take over!"

"Urgh," Tsubaki groaned, "Are we turning more and more into a messed up group or what?"

"Hm, Asapin," I observed, "All you really wanted was to be in with us cute girls, right?"

"And mess up our plans so your dinner show will win," Aya added.

"Oh, I don't need to mess your plans up for my dinner show to win…"

"Asapin! Will you just shut up with that dinner show crap." Yukino shot him the Look of Doom.

"…but while I'm here," he continued smoothly, "this is the cutest planning group I know of."

We laughed. He always laid it on thick but he was harmless enough. And if nothing else he'd make a nice ornament to our group.

There was a presence.

I looked around.

He was in the doorway.

I frowned.

How long had he been standing there, I wondered.

He wasn't looking at us but seemed to be staring blankly out through the windows and off into the sunshine.

That look… it wasn't Pale Arima certainly, yet it wasn't Dark Arima either. It had tones of darkness about it but I couldn't place that face. I'd seen it before somewhere, recently.

Damn, I hate it when that happens.

It digs at you and gnaws at you and won't leave you alone.

That look, it was familiar.

"Arima?"

I muttered under my breath, as though unsure if it was even him behind that strange face.

He caught me looking and the face vanished to be replaced instantly by another. Light and happy and open.

"Miyazawa!" this new happy face said.

She turned.

"Arima!" a call of delight and joy. That call of loving recognition and welcome would make a corpse take heart.

He came in.

"Here are the printouts you wanted," he laid a slim sheaf of papers on the desk, "Hideaki, what are you doing here?"

"Guess what," the Casanova replied, a little cockily, "I'm helping out with the play planning. Helping Miyazawa and her lambs. Friends! Friends…" he quickly corrected.

"Hm, lucky you. I wish I could try stuff like that."

My heart missed a beat. There was no emotion in his voice at all, not one scrap. Yet that simple throw away comment that could have sounded chatty and friendly if he'd accompanied it with a smile, sounded like a prison sentence the way he said it. He sounded like a man doomed to a life of lonliness by an incurable shyness.

I went dark inside.

Why?

Why would Arima say a thing like that? That way?

And what had been in his mind when he'd been watching us from the doorway?

And how long had he been there, just looking. And listening?

Asaba stood up and put his arms round his neck and went all gay and clingy on him.

He'd not seen that different person, or if he had he was hiding any reaction.

"Oh, yes?" Asapin said, "You wish you could join in with these gorgeous beautiful girls?"

"I am not you," came the reply, delivered again without humour.

"You've already been a great help by sharing your ideas with us."

I glanced down at Yukino. She was smiling. The Big Happy Kitten was back.

Had she seen it? Surely she must have?

And then it hit me.

Maho!

That was it!

Maho's face!

That morning at Yukino's house.

When I'd gone home early with Tsubasa, the morning after she'd run away.

Maho then had worn that look.

It was a look of helplessness and hopelessness.

The same expression.

She'd worn it and I didn't know why.

And now Arima had worn it and I didn't know why either.

Why would Arima, with a love in his life as strong as Yukino's, go around with _that_ emotion eating at his insides?

- - - oOo - - -

It was later, the last fifteen minutes of lunch. I needed some fresh air and some space.

I did what I often do, I went up to the roof. I turned out of the stairwell and sat with my back to it's cool shady side.

I crossed my legs, folding my ankles under my thighs, tucked my skirt sensibly down to cover everything and rested my head back on the smooth cool concrete.

Ah.

Bliss.

I watched the clouds for a few minutes as they sailed serenely above me like airships.

I became aware of another person on the roof.

A boy. Right at the far end by the railings.

I studied him.

I knew who it was.

He was sitting knees drawn up, hunched over, reading a book that he held in front of his shins, arms resting around his knees.

A large cloud came over and painted the concrete darker. The darkness covered the boy.

He didn't move.

I didn't stop watching him.

Someone else came onto the roof. Another boy, tall, slim, light brown hair to below his collar bleached almost blonde by the sun. He wore his slacks loose and sloppy, a baggy shapeless white tee shirt and scuffed trainers. Hands in pockets he made his unhurried hippy-like way across the roof towards the first boy. He was wearing headphones and the tinny sound of them was the only noise up here.

As he walked the cloud passed, the shadow of it's trailing edge flew over the roof behind the walking boy, as though he were dragging the sunshine behind him like a gift he was about to give.

It was a strong image and it touched me.

He switched off the music.

He stood over the sitting boy.

"Hey there. You okay?"

The sunshine came over them both. Warmth and light replaced cold and dark. The second boy's arrival swept it away.

I blinked. Aya should be here. She could use that symbol in one of her stories.

The standing boy got no response.

Then something happened that surprised me, it even shocked me. Mostly because I didn't understand it.

The second boy sat down, his back to the first. He swallowed from a can of drink and put it down next to himself. He drew his knees up and leaned back a little but said nothing.

The first boy riffled through his book, clearly not interested in it, and let it fall.

Then he leaned back, leaned against Asaba and lay his head back on the taller boy's shoulder.

Arima closed his eyes and rested there against his friend.

Suddenly my heart was up in my throat and tears stung my eyes.

I don't know why and I don't understand the connection these two have but something intensely sad struck me about this scene.

It was as though – well, had Arima been a girl, I think Asapin might have loved him. Would have loved him. Maybe in Arima he saw his perfect friend. His soul mate. The girl he was searching for. They were so different and I know Asapin had said Arima reminded him of his own father.

Maybe that was it, despite the deep ruptures in his family he still loved them, loved his father and in loving Arima he was finding healing. I wondered how deep this friendship went, how loving it was.

Be clear on this, be quite clear, I wasn't thinking gay stuff at all, not one bit of it, but the gentle connection I witnessed on that roof that day seemed to speak more to me than any number of words Asapin had said to me about Arima.

That face, that helpless hopeless face Arima had worn.

What caused it?

And did he find comfort here with his friend?

Why didn't he find comfort in the arms of his lover?

Or was a lover's comfort the wrong medicine for whatever this sickness was?

I thought of Maho's face too, and wondered if there was a parallel.

If there was I couldn't see it.

Her situation, what I knew of it, had no parallel to Arima's and Yukino's that I could see.

She was happily in love with her boyfriend and while her parents were causing trouble it would all work out in the end.

Wouldn't it?

As the bell rang the two boys got up.

I stayed where I was, in shadow. They'd possibly see me but they might not. They definitely would if I moved to the stairs so I stayed still.

They walked slowly and side by side to the stairwell enclosure. As they neared the door Asapin dropped back a pace to let his friend go first.

He looked up and saw me watching them.

He said nothing, his face made no expression.

He put a hand on Arima's back below his shoulder as though to both guide him and let him know he was there. As though to support him.

They went down.

I sat a minute longer, giving them time to go.

Then I followed.

A rather puzzled and confused and concerned Ryusaki followed.

I felt like I'd witnessed another snowball.

It too was rolling, gathering size and momentum and might soon, if it's course remained unchecked, become dangerous, unstoppable without someone getting hurt.

I needed to speak to Yukino.

- - - oOo - - -

_12 – 13 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Four, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	55. That Final Week

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Five – That Final Week **

14 Days / 7

It was late on Friday, we were all outside in the quad waiting for Yukino to finish yet another of her long student council meetings.

Her head appeared out of a first floor window.

"Ohi!"

"We've got a problem," Aya called up, "All the classes have started gathering plywood and other materials, so there's none left we can use for scenery."

"Even the library and the science rooms?" Yukino shouted down.

"No good," Rika replied, "we went everywhere but it's all been claimed."

"I told you so didn't I? Trying to put on a play this late is…"

I didn't need to turn around to know the person speaking behind me would have her arms folded and her legs crossed at the ankles.

"This is a problem!" Rika was getting flustered.

"Listen to me!" Maho was getting excited now too.

"Oh," Yukino cut in, pointing, "Behind you guys, in the window, Kawashima-sensei is trying to get your attention."

We went over to him and Aya told him what our problem was.

"Oh, no empty rooms?" he smiled, and drew another ace from his sleeve. Well, it was a key actually and it didn't come from his sleeve but his pocket, but the metaphor holds up so I'll leave it in, "Well, you can use the student discipline room. It won't be in use for a while anyway."

He unlocked the door. We were stunned.

"Oh yes! Power!" Yukino bounced up having run down from the first floor corridor. We went in and took the place over. From that day all our work and planning was carried out there. Mission Control, Yukino named it. The name stuck, from then on, all through our three years at Hokuei, if someone was told to report to Mission Control it meant one of the teachers was going to tear a strip off them and possibly give them a detention.

_"I'll meet you outside Mission Control."_

It was a useful code to have, even if hardly necessary.

"We'll each have to find a source of scenery materials at home or from where family members work. Can we do that?"

We agreed we'd have to.

"So, Aya," Yukino said, "Did you write out what kind of preparations we need to make?"

"Yeah, how does this look?" she handed Yukino a pad.

"Let's see… mmm… read through, yep, then rehearsal, costume fitting, then a full rehearsal on stage. We need to measure the back of the gym for the sets. Stage equipment, sets, props – you've listed those yes? Okay, lighting – we need a lighting manager, the overall image. Hm, posters and programmes. Let's look at the lights and sound setup when we check the stage on Monday. Make detailed decisions on background music, sound effects and lighting. Oh, we can think about that as we do a run through of our lines. We'll put that off until later. No school tomorrow makes it kind of tight. Lets draw up an outline today and go shop for what we need tomorrow afternoon. Is that okay with you guys?"

"Hai!" we all chorused.

Apart from Maho who watched the trees outside.

"Good. Then let's decide the schedule first. What has to be done by when."

"We've got no time to waste at all," Rika pointed out what was already painfully obvious.

"I'm telling you," the voice at the window spoke, "What do you expect to accomplish in one week?"

"Have you thought about the stage equipment?" Yukino simply ignored the doomsayer, and if I'm honest I was getting a bit fed up with Maho too. She'd made her point long ago, to keep reminding us of it was a bit childish I thought.

"Yes, stage equipment is sorted out," Asaba said.

I glanced at him and gave him a smile. He grinned back.

It had been such a hectic week, we'd all been working late on this several nights now and he and I hadn't seen each other outside school for – hm, what was it now? Not sure, but it must have been all that week.

I'd missed him.

No, be honest, girl. I'd missed his touch. I'd missed _it_.

I thought that one evening soon when we weren't too tired I'd like to go clubbing again and afterwards invite him home. All this hard work and rushing about and thinking.

Yes, I deserved it. And looking at him he looked like he did too.

"And of course, the whole enterprise is pointless if we actresses don't know our lines. So," Yukino looked up at Tsubasa and me, then across at Maho's back, "have them all perfectly memorized by Monday."

"Monday?" I was thunderstruck.

"Yes. Monday! When did you want to do it, Wednesday? When will we fit in the read through and the full rehearsal then? The Festival is next Saturday!"

"Alright, alright, get off my case. I'll do it!"

"It's easy. I can do it, it'll only take a couple of evenings and there's all Sunday."

"Okay already! I can do it too!" Angry Girl at a Window said.

"God, she's good," Aya said quietly to Rika, impressed by our leaders powers of motivation. And forked tongue.

"Now, the stage. Is the set design done?"

"Hm, here, as promised my lady," Asapin pulled a large stiff card from his art wallet and handed it to her.

Yukino looked at it. We gathered round. Our first look at what the set would be like.

"We came up with it jointly, Rika-san, Aya-san and I. But it was mostly Aya-san's work, her design. She's great to work with, she's so disciplined. She kept it focused right down on the bare essentials."

"Oh shut up Asaba, anyone'd think you actually _like_ me," Aya retorted.

We looked. For a moment we were silent. This is where it would happen. Our first look at where these characters would live. Stage right was the bed or sleeping chamber, a large box-like structure that had a lid lifted by a hydraulic cylinder that Aya's brothers friend would build for us. It needed to have various lights on the side and lid so it looked like it was computerized. In front of that was a radio set, computer monitor and communication desk.

Front centre stage was a table and chairs, all in an old curly turn of the last century European style. At back of centre stage was a huge bookcase again of old-fashioned style. Set into the centre of this was a large flat monitor and a set of keyboards below it.

Stage left was the 'lab' area that would have a desk, an examination table and cupboards and shelves. We'd need to fill these with clutter that looked scientific and futuristic.

There were entrances at the rear of stage right and the centre of stage left.

"I wanted the lab set to originally be a different set but given our limited resources and time I thought I'd do away with set changes and incorporate the lab set into one side of the living chamber set. What I think we'll do is simply dim out the lights on the side of the set we're not using, giving the impression of two rooms.

"I actually want a lot of dimmed lighting and complete black out much of the time, with the speaking characters illuminated by strong over head spots. I just wanna – depict spaces between them, distances their personalities are trying to close but can't. D'you get that?"

We did.

I was impressed, Aya had it all planned out.

"And with so much darkness we don't have to go mad with a super detailed set. I want it be have quite a minimalist feel, a clean feel."

"Wow," even Yukino sounded impressed, "I can hardly wait to see it. Oh, that's right, what are we going to do about the huge monitor? It's a key element in the story, but it's going to be hard to do."

"That won't be a problem," Aya said, lifting a cigarette to her lips, "My older brother who's organising the sleeping box for us does film- and TV-related work at a small studio. He got interested in the story," she tried to light her cigarette, but her petrol lighter wouldn't ignite. She span the wheel over the flint a few times, shaking it, "and he said he'll do that for us…"

Her cigarette was snapped in half and the top end went flying. She looked stupidly at the remains between her fingers, the filter and a half inch of crushed paper.

"Uh?"

"You started this!" Yukino was before her, breathing hellfire and brimstone, "You're gonna wreck it! What are you thinking? You'll get yourself expelled and us all suspended over culture fest week! I told you before – QUIT SMOKING!"

"Oh," Aya looked at the remains of the thing in her hand. Her face was blank, like she'd never seen it before, "How did that get there?"

"At least it's the discipline room, Aya, you're making it nice and easy for Kawashima-sensei," Asaba sniggered at my joke.

"Did you call me? How are things going?" Kawashima-sensei was at the door. Aya made the cigarette stub vanish fast. "The reason I called for you a while ago was because I have some cakes for you. One of the second year teachers had a birthday today and she brought in far too many pastries. So here, you have them. There's some cans of drink too."

He held out a box. Asaba took it and held it high while Tsubasa appeared magically at his side and began to bounce up and down whining at it like a hound after a fox.

"Whoa! Excellent! Arigato!" we were all pleased by his gesture.

Did he like us or something?

He wasn't such a strict scary monster after all perhaps.

We tucked in.

The clock ticked by and by seven in the evening we decided to call it a night. Everything now hung on getting hold of materials for the sets (again Aya thought her brother could help) and pacing out the stage. Costumes were well under way, Rika said and we had our lines to learn over the weekend.

That was about it.

Everyone decided to go get a bite to eat. Yukino said she'd seen the lights still on in the kendo hall and thought she'd go meet Arima direct from his club. I thought I'd go over too and see if the pool was still open. I grabbed my sports bag and decided a half hour swim would do me some good.

It did.

I swam for forty five minutes, letting go of everything and just not thinking at all. Up and down, length after length. Up and down. Letting it all wash away.

The school coach came by and seeing me, dropped off the keys shouting to me to switch off and lock up when I was done.

I carried on and it was almost nine when I'd had enough.

Well, no really, I could keep going all night when I get into the groove but it was dark outside and I was hungry, so I got out, showered, dried and walked home.

Down familiar streets past the same old houses and street lights.

Their sameness was comforting, their presence at each corner and around each turning helped to calm me.

I needed that.

I was going to stand up in front of a couple of hundred people and act.

The thought filled me with fear. I'd skimmed through the script a couple of times now and my character seemed to be the minor one of the six (Tsubasa actually played three parts) but it was an emotional role. I was worried enough about just remembering the lines.

Having to do things and put emotion into the speaking was a whole different world.

And then there was the kiss. At the end when my character died, Maho's character kissed me. It was a fairly chaste thing, on the forehead but I could feel the emotion in that scene. That whole thing bothered me too for different reasons.

I wondered, given the character Aya had written for me, how much she knew.

About me.

And Maho.

- - - oOo - - -

We met up the next day in Kawasaki centre to shop for supplies and equipment.

Yukino was a little late but she arrived eventually and we chatted waiting for Asaba to show up. When he did arrive he freaked me out, he was dressed all in sixties gear, a brown and pink flowery shirt, worn faded jeans and a load of necklaces including a big metal 'ban the bomb' symbol. He even wore John Lennon glasses, little round rose pink ones. I stared at him, open mouthed.

He reminded me of the day I'd first seen him. How long ago that seemed.

Damn, he looked good though. He could even carry off an over the top look like this.

Things went off course right from the start. The first thing Rika and Aya wanted to do was mess about trying different outfits on him so they dragged him into the nearest department store. The rest of us kicked our heels outside the men's changing rooms getting more and more worked up.

"Come on Yukino, we're in danger of getting seriously derailed here. Are we okay with these characters in our group?"

I turned to Maho.

_Oh, since when did you start caring about the play?_

Yukino's response was to grab Tsubasa and drag her off towards a rack of children's frilly party dresses making gurgling cute eager noises. Sure, she'd make a good mother one day but today was not the time to practice.

Maho and I dragged the other five outside and over to a café. Hm, why was she that bothered?

"We can borrow sounds effects CDs from the broadcasting club." The focused Yukino was back, thank God, "I also called the director of the brass band last night…"

"You're working from home too?" a disbelieving Maho cut in.

"No-one has much free time. And about the time slot we can have... well I was thinking of doing it in two parts. The script's pretty long. I think it'll turn out to be nearly two hours and two hour slots are impossible to get so why not split it into two parts, one early in the day and one in the afternoon. It'll give us a rest too. Aya, I need you to make that call."

"Hm, it's a dilemma. I'd prefer to do it in one shot to keep the atmosphere but that would be physically tough too. The real issue is whether the audience would come back for the second part."

"Easy," I said, "We sell tickets for the whole play so people will have paid to see it all. If the first part is popular and more come to watch the second half we can sell any extra tickets at half price."

"Sixty six percent of full price," Yukino corrected, "Get your marketing principals right, girl."

"What times can we get?" Rika asked.

"Well, we were a last minute addition – not a proper club - total amateurs…"

"Dammit! I said don't say that!"

Maho wasn't herself today, she was unusually driven. What's eating her? I thought.

"…so we can't get good times. Now, no-one will come to see us at nine thirty in the morning or after four in the afternoon, so I thought we should take the plunge and use the lunch hour."

"Ah." Asapin commented.

"And here's the news flash. The brass band isn't using the hall this year. They are doing a concert on the roof at sunset and since I know the band director quite well from the student council he released the free hall to me."

"So we don't have to put up with the crappy lighting in the gym?" Aya leaned forward.

"No. We can use the hall all day. Its just we have to slot in the performance around the other big events so nothing clashes."

"We've got the hall? Not the gym?" Rika sounded like she couldn't believe it.

"Uh-huh," nodded Yukino, "that's okay isn't it?"

My God, of course it was okay. It was more than okay. It was a damn miracle. We had the full stage now, with lighting, sounds, TV and video, a proper lighting desk, a sound mixing desk, changing rooms, everything.

We sat there, stunned.

Oh my God. This was gonna be _big_. Bigger than big. Awesome.

"Wow," Aya said, amazed, "You're like a politician Yukinon."

"So a brass band concert on the roof at sunset," Rika said, "How romantic."

"Let's treat ourselves to karaoke after this." said Aya.

"Sounds good. I'll sing Penicillin's 'Romance'," Asaba stood and struck a pose.

"Ha, that fits you so well," Yukino cut in, "I'll sing Ringo Shina-chan's 'Kabui Tower Queen'!"

"Ah, good one! We'll sing Yuzi!"

"Hold it! Hold it!" Maho stood up, "We don't have the time! We only have a week to do this! We need to do a read through tonight! And you guys are gonna goof off?"

We froze.

We stared.

"Maho?" someone said.

"What? Why… why am I worrying about this?" she stood there looking like she'd woken from a dream.

I was impressed though, at the few times she really got a bee in her bonnet Maho would rank up there with Yukino for that wild crazy determined edge.

"Why do you care?" Yukino asked the question we were all thinking.

Maho just stood there, unable to give an answer.

But in her eyes it was there. The determination. It struck me then. She did care. No matter what her exterior had written on it, the negative attitude she wore there, on the inside she did care about this play and her part in it. I sat there wondering, like everyone else, why. What had changed?

Well, what had? I wracked my brains. She and I hadn't spoken much recently about, you know, _stuff_. Important things. Not since she'd run away from me on the roof the other day. I wondered if things with her dentist boyfriend were okay. What had her parents said to him? Um, maybe it was a small thing like he was coming to see the play and she wanted it to go well in order to impress him.

"Ha!" Aya broke into my thoughts, "I'm so glad Maho-san's serious about this now. You've committed yourself even though at first you wanted it to fail. It feels good doesn't it? When something begins to gain momentum and you feel it go rolling downhill and you're so against it but then you realise that if you all work together you can make it happen."

"And not just happen," I said, looking up at Maho and smiling, "but happen well. Although…"

"Hm?" Yukino looked at me.

"…I'm still nervous about my part. I'm afraid of talking in public. I always have."

"We'll all be there, me, Maho, Aya. We'll prompt you if you need it. We'll be right with you. A team."

"All right," I said, taking a big breath.

"Together. Yes?" Maho looked at me.

"Yeah."

I could feel her enthusiasm now, feel her heart supporting this thing that right there, right then in some anonymous Kawasaki mall coffee bar became suddenly bigger than all of us. No-one could stop it now, no-one could turn it aside. We were caught up in a monster of our own creation. It had only one destination now and I felt the exhilaration of being a part of it.

And if Maho was a part of it too, well that was fine as well.

If she was there I felt like I wouldn't screw up, because her involvement deserved my best shot. If something in her had changed so this was important to her now, then it was important to me too.

- - - oOo - - -

We treated ourselves to an hour's karaoke and then went back to Maho's house. Asapin made his excuses and went on. He said he wanted to go out in town that night. Being Saturday a good DJ was on. I looked at him as he went giving him a slightly longing look. I think he got the message. One day soon, maybe next Saturday after the culture fest, if we didn't all go out to celebrate, I'd ask him to take me to his club again and we'd do something wild and fun.

Maho's bedroom was a good place to practice. It had been raining earlier but had stopped, so we slid the shouji screens open and the back porch became the front row seats. Aya and Rika sat there. The door to the hallway was perfectly placed for back of stage right, and by turning her bed ninety degrees so the foot faced towards the door we could more or less create the set as necessary.

We brought in a second table and placed it stage left and put a futon over it for the scientific examination table and her book cases against the hallway wall were perfect. We had no entrance stage left but people could come on from the porch on that side.

We did a read through, Aya speaking notes into her dictaphone as we went, Rika scribbling things down too. We managed to almost do two complete read throughs before it got late and Rika and Aya had to catch their last train. They took Tsubasa with them.

"Finally it's beginning to feel like it's really happening."

"Yeah," Yukino answered me, "it feels good doesn't it?"

"Hm," I nodded.

Maho merely stared into her teacup. We were on cushions outside on the porch. The garden dripped in the moist warm night. It smelled wonderful.

I looked at her face. Coasting in Neutral was back.

"Does it feel good, Maho?"

She looked up at me.

"It's late," was her answer, "if a loser like me is going to memorize these lines by tomorrow night you guys need to clear off home."

How I wanted so much for Yukino to not be there. How I wanted so much to just put my arms around that woman and tell her that whatever it was, it would be alright if she would let me make it so. How I wanted to hug her forever until all her fears and worries and aches and concerns went away and only peace was left.

How I wanted that.

"Sure," Yukino nodded, "let's go."

So we went.

- - - oOo - - -

_14 – 17 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Five, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	56. Fighting For Friends, Laughing For Love

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Six – ****Fighting For Friends, Laughing For Love**

"_She stays with me through everything even though she has nothing to gain._

_- Arima Soichiro, __Kareshi Kanojo no Jijō__, Act 6 _

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"_FRIENDSHIP!"_

_- Miyazawa Yukino, __Kareshi Kanojo no Jijō__, Act 17_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

14 Days / 8

The next Monday something happened that made me do what I'd been worrying about doing for some time now.

I confronted Yukino about Arima.

Something had to give soon, I'd seen so many signs, her man was reaching a crisis, some breaking point and if she didn't tackle it soon, it would blow up in her face. She and I were walking from our homeroom to Mission Control. I can't remember now why Maho wasn't with us. It might have been something prosaic like taking a detour to powder her nose.

"Yo, everyone's talking about it. You're doing a play."

"That's right."

Tonami. Coming the other way. He seemed friendly this morning. I stood and watched the conversation unfold between _Kareshi_ and _Kanojo_.

"You going to be okay? You're not going to forget your lines the moment it starts are you?"

"Hey I don't need people saying stuff that'll jinx me! I have no problem talking in front of large groups. I've been class or year rep every year right from elementary school."

"Student council and doing a play are two very different things."

"And you'd know all about that would you? Acted in many plays have we? And what about your own one man show? How is the revenge plan progressing?"

"Ah, nice come back. I'm in no rush, so it's okay. I'll get there, little by little."

The old loner in me watched. Faces, voices, body language. It was one of my better skills, not found on any school curriculum, I'd perfected it over many months at the Middle School of Avoiding Bullies.

"Yeah, there's no aesthetics in getting revenge just like that. Take your time and do it slowly. That process is the best part about it."

"Got that right."

He was interested. In her. It was all over him. She might not see it. He might not even admit it to himself, but he was wearing it like a flashing sign floating above his head. His voice and his expression and his posture said it. '_She's nice to be near. I like her. I'm interested._' My alarm bells were clanging.

"Time to plan your revenge… so beautiful… like a work of art. Like fitting the pieces of a puzzle together one at a time. That feeling of slowly but surely ensnaring your target. So when you finally destroy her it will make the pleasure all the greater."

Oh, Yukino. How can you think that's a way to go about life? You disappoint me.

"Exactly."

"Oh, I even terrify myself! If I hadn't come to fall in love with Arima, I'd probably be plotting something like that against him right now."

"What?"

"Uh, Yukino," I needed to get away, be elsewhere with the thoughts that were tearing me open. I couldn't bear to be here a second longer, "I'll go on ahead to Mission Control. Catch you in a minute."

"Sure," she smiled and raised a hand like every other time. Light and cheery.

The conversation continued behind me.

"At first sight you seem to be completely normal. But hidden inside is a tenacious, dark personality. I don't particularly like you or anything but the two of us are still very similar. I can understand you."

"Oh, I don't like you or anything either but I sense something familiar in you too."

A little shared shower of laughter from girl and boy filled the space behind me as I retreated. I reached the stairs to go down to the ground floor. I glanced left. I stopped.

_He_ was there.

On the stairs. Around the corner. Out of sight.

Listening.

I looked at him.

And he at me.

I wish I hadn't looked. Even though not to was impossible. What was there on that face filled me with sadness.

He looked at me for four or five seconds and then, hearing the laughter behind us end and the goodbyes spoken and the familiar light footsteps approach, he turned away and went back up the stairs.

That face.

Dark Arima was there that morning. Bleak, black, helpless, hopeless, lonely, hurting. You didn't need my skills at understanding people to see what the problem was.

Jealously. Burning, consuming, rabid. Almost out of control.

"Come on Kanahrin, we've got a play to organize, a set of Tokyo U student notes to win, a world to take by storm. Let's go!"

"Hm."

Sure Yukino, let's go.

Let's go win those student notes. Let's win the contest. Let's impress ourselves with our abilities. Let's beat the rest of the world.

And in doing so, lose everything in it of value.

- - - oOo - - -

I came across Asapin later. He'd noticed the same thing.

"That Tonami guy is getting too close to Yukino. He's talking to her just too often and in a way that's too familiar."

"I know, Asapin, I know. I don't like him at all. You know how Arima really feels don't you? About other boys around her? Talk to him would you? I hardly know him at all. He'll listen to you. Tell him you've seen what Tonami's up to and that he needn't worry. And you tell Tonami to back off. Do that, yeah? For Arima. And for Yukino. I'm going to find Tonami and tell him as well."

He looked at me. He had a hard passionate look in his eye.

"This is for them, yeah? For both of them?"

"It is. And us. For all of us."

"We're the Mission Impossible Team!"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, let's do it."

We shared a high five which ended on a strangely tender note with his fingers interlacing with mine. I squeezed his hand. He grinned.

- - - oOo - - -

I can't remember how I found time that morning to get into the deepest most amazing most fundamental conversation with Yukino. I suppose we were going somewhere to do something for organising the play (we lived and breathed the play that week). We dropped aside en-route to grab a drink at the outside taps. I can't even say how the small talk we started with got so heavy so fast, but it did.

"I'm talking about how I've changed and grown over the months," she was saying, wiping her mouth, "I'm concerned too about how much more Arima leans on Asaba, and not on me."

"That might be right, you know. I've seen them very close this last few days."

"In the end I think all that's changed is I've stopped caring about my image. The greedy part of me is still here, Kanahrin. So does what I've been through this year count as change? It feels fake. I wonder how Arima feels? Does he think about these things too? What makes him suffer so? The truth of the matter is, in the end, I just don't know."

"Really? And you've known him four months? I'm amazed. What do you talk about?"

"Little things usually, nothing of importance. In the beginning he revealed his heart to me and told me about his parents and that he was adopted and so on but I've never gone back over that ground."

"You should. I think you must. You should tell him those parts of him are important to you."

"I don't understand it but I have this feeling that all I can do for him is give him support. He has to face and overcome his own problems. All I can do is hold his hand. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that the dark struggle he's facing will force him to go to a place inside himself where I can't follow, where my hand can't reach him. I'll have to let him go."

"In that case you call to him, Yuki. You keep on calling. You guide him back home. Back to you. If he has to deal with things that are in a place in his heart where you aren't included – then make the outside world where you are, so attractive to him that he'll always be able to find his way back. To you. Be a beacon for him. Always be around him, as happy as you can be. Hug him a lot, kiss him, always talking. Maybe there is more you can do… only you know that."

My hint was a big one, but if she saw it she showed no sign.

"I used to have almost absolute confidence in myself. I never thought of anyone but myself. Now I think of Arima as more important than me. I think of my friends too. Consideration. Is this what being considerate means? Even so, this change in me is pleasant. Irresistible. Irreversible. I couldn't go back to how I was before. Oh... I think… perhaps our meeting each other was so that we might change each other? If so, by changing each other, maybe we're losing our need for each other. But I think that would be okay too. We seem similar but we're different in many ways too. As we meet new people and say goodbyes we will probably continue to change. And I'd promise him that if we should ever part someday that we will never forget the wonderful feelings we experienced together."

She stared at the ground. Rarely have I seen the dynamic bouncy Yukino look so down.

"I don't think that will happen. I've seen Arima around you – and on his own sometimes – his face. He's completely lost within you. He's in so deep he won't ever leave. You need to make sure you are committed to him because he's sure as heck committed himself to you. If you feel like leaving him, consider your moves carefully. I think he could turn nasty, you know he's very possessive. If you do ever feel like that, like ending it, please spend a long time thinking about it. Come to me, talk to me. If you went it might be the end of him. And he'll never leave you, I can see it in his face. And if now you feel different about him, its not that the two of you no longer need each other, it's that your relationship has found a new level, a level where you've both learned a lot about each other and now you can begin to be comfortable together. In a way, Yuki, I think that is the best time. You're past that uncertain stage when you think the other person might get bored and go, or decide they don't like you after all and walk away. You don't need to always be doing things together but just resting quietly in the other person's company is enough."

"Is that what you dream of? Is that your ideal?"

"Yes – one day I want to be with a person I can completely feel at ease with. Almost like a family member. Family I never had."

"I hope you find that. I really hope you do."

"Hold me. Please," I almost begged her. Not quite, but almost.

And she did, for a long time. Tightly, stroking my back.

"And you. Go and talk to Arima. Today. Tonight. We'll work tonight on the play without you. The play is one day. Arima is your life. I know which is more important. Drag him away from his club, no excuses, and talk to him. Hold him. Kiss him. Hold him some more. Reassure him. Tell him no-one else matters. Tell him the play doesn't matter. Tell him only he matters. He needs to hear you say that Yuki, so go say it. Will you?"

"I will. Arigato gozaimasu, Kana."

"Kana?"

"Hm. You said Yuki. No-one but my sisters or my mom calls me Yuki."

"Maybe the mother in me is talking then."

"Right, mom, I'll go talk to Soichiro."

I had never once heard her call him that before, either.

- - - oOo - - -

Mid-morning Asapin found me and told me he'd spoken with Tonami. He said it was a pretty serious talk.

"It was fierce stuff," he said, "I said to him '_You know, you're getting too close to Miyazawa. You're driving Arima into a corner. It'd be better if you didn't do un-necessary things thoughtlessly. Don't go asking her if she needs help with committee work, stuff like that. She's more than capable of doing it on her own, has been for years. Having you around is just going to end up with someone getting hurt. Arima actually hates it when someone other than himself – boy or girl – gets too close to Miyazawa._' And he went like '_What? You're talking about Arima?_' so I gave it to him straight, '_The Arima you know is the fake one, right? The one you see happily talking and playing about and working in class. The real Arima has a violent temper. He's very possessive. He knows that Miyazawa would never betray him, but this isn't about what's logical. The only person Arima is unconditionally kind to is Miyazawa. He only allows me to be around her because he knows I'll never lay a finger on her_.' Hey," Asapin chuckled, "you should have seen his face, partly pissed off and partly confused, he was really in deep I realized then. So, he goes '_What? You sure you're not reading too much into this? It's not that I don't like her, just besides she's not worth all that! She's just a little smart and cute. Nothing special. Just an ordinary girl. She's not even my type_.' He was squirming, avoiding the issue. I knew then that he had no idea, no idea at all about the situation he'd walked into. So I says '_What you've just said tells me you've sat down and thought about her. Haven't you? You just don't get it at all do you? You're not listening to what I'm saying. You're such a child. I told you he isn't logical – it doesn't matter that she's not your type. You just hanging around her is going to earn you a punch on the jaw pretty soon'_."

Asapin leaned back on the window sill with arms loosely folded smiled at me.

"Actually I was close to shitting myself. I played it cool but he's a big guy, bigger than me. If he'd decided to clock me one I could have looked very stupid."

"Not easy to argue a position of authority when you're on the floor with a bloody nose."

"Right. The Debating Club probably never had to devise a strategy for that position."

"I'm pleased. You did well."

I looked at him. He was obviously happy with a job well done. A good old fashioned testosterone-spewing manly argument successfully handled.

The look suited him. I suddenly had the urge.

I glanced left and right, no-one was in the corridor. I pulled him quickly into the empty classroom we were loitering outside, slid the door closed. Staying away from all windows so not even our silhouettes might show, I reached my arms up around his neck, and feeling like a naughty schoolgirl (which technically I was) I kissed him. He froze a moment in surprise I think, or maybe fear. But it didn't take many seconds for him to thaw and kiss me back.

And kiss back very nicely, thank you. Kiss so well that I began to lose myself.

I broke away, looked down.

"Ah, not such a good idea maybe…" I said.

His hand dropped reluctantly from the front of my shirt.

"When the culture fest is over. I want you," my voice had already taken on that hoarse edge he so quickly causes in it.

"Yes. Your place or mine?"

"Mine," I breathed, "I want you in my place."

- - - oOo - - -

"If you continue Arima is going to beat the crap out of you."

"Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?"

He spun around on me, his face angry. Yowza, he was pretty scary, more than a clear foot taller than me, he towered up above.

Useless in a confrontation, I back-pedalled.

"I'm just telling you, Tonami-kun. Call it a friendly health warning. You're getting too close to Miyazawa and Arima is a very jealous guy. He'll get violent, this isn't a threat."

"What the hell's going on today? You're the second person to get on my case over this. What's up?"

Ah. That made my conversation look a bit cheap.

"Uh, a lot of people care about Arima, that's why. And Miyazawa."

"So? Does it need two delivery boys to send the news? I can look after myself thanks all the same."

I glanced down, his hands were balled into fists. Each was nearly the size of my head. Now _those_ would hurt. I was glad I wasn't a guy, I might've had to put the horizontal Debating Club position into practice.

"Oh, and while you're at it."

"Now what?"

"I'd give up on your revenge against Sakura too. She's tough, tougher than you think..."

"_Now_ you're pissing me off. Who the hell do you think you are, sticking your nose in my business?"

He was almost shouting. I was crap at this fighting thing. I was shaking like mad and ready to turn tail and run. But my resolve made me continue, my thoughts of bullying and how wrong it was. I had to avert a situation like that if I could. And if he decked me? I didn't think he would, but if he did it would still be worth it.

"Don't you think it's a little childish to hold a grudge for three years? To focus your whole youth on hating one person just because they hurt you?"

"I'm warning you…"

"What, you'll hit me? Go ahead, plenty of people have, you'd be no worse than the many times in the past. I've had a lot nastier people than you punch me. So go right ahead."

"What the fuck do you want?"

I flinched. Now he actually was shouting.

"For you to listen to me. When I'm done you can go right ahead and do what you like. Hit me, ignore me, be rude to me, be nasty to Sakura if you want."

He withdrew his fist and stuck his hands in his pockets, leaned back on the window ledge.

"You got two minutes. Then I'm leaving. If you're still yabbering away when your two minutes are up, I swear, girl or not, I'll smack you one and then walk."

"What do you hope to achieve? Hurting her? Is that going to make you feel better? Is that it? You know what that makes you? No better than she was when she was eleven or twelve. She was a stupid tomboy kid. She didn't think because she was too young and too stupid to. And look at you. Intelligent, athletic, mature. And what are you going to do with your time? You're still stuck fighting a silly war against a bully that's been over for three years."

I paused and looked down.

"Are you done?"

I looked at his face. He wouldn't meet my gaze. I was shaking, partly with anger but mostly nerves. Suddenly this seemed very important. As important as anything I'd ever said to anybody.

"You should thank her. Look at you. Look at how your body and mind have changed in the last three years. Compare yourself now to the fat kid you used to be. You've become a superior person. You know, you should forget about trying to hurt her and go up to her and thank her for what she did. She was a force that changed you. You improved yourself because of what she did. Without her you might still be a fat, lazy, spoiled brat. Think about that."

Shaking with emotion, my armpits damp with fear, I turned and walked away. He never said a word.

- - - oOo - - -

"I'm late. Gomen."

I was a wreck, my blouse was wet with sweat, I was shaking and I felt like I was going to throw up. I sat down at a desk and put my head in my hands.

Asapin and Rika and two girls I didn't know who might have been from Tsubaki's Volleyball club or some of Asapin's art friends were working on some scenery. They stopped and looked at me.

"Are we going to rehearse our lines?" I asked.

"Are you okay?" Maho said.

"Yeah. Kinda. I'll be alright. I might go over to the pool and shower."

Mission Control was ticking over nicely. T minus four days and counting.

I got up, my sports bag was down at the lockers.

"Hey, wait. If you shower and put that sweaty rag back on you'll be no better off."

"Uh."

"Borrow my spare. I'll come down with you."

We were walking along the corridor, Maho and I. I stopped and leaned on the windowsill.

"Urh…"

"What."

"Oh, shit. I'm gonna puke."

"Damn. Not got yourself pregnant or anything stupid like that have you?"

"Don't joke. I need a toilet, or a bucket. Fast."

I doubled over, my throat was contracting, my muscles spasming making that awful tight feeling and disgusting bile taste that tells you it's just a matter of seconds.

"Here."

She opened a cleaning cabinet and pulled out a bucket, threw aside a floor mop. I squatted by the corner of the cabinet and did it, retching and retching and feeling like shit.

"Is it nerves? It's a little early for stage fright, kid."

"Urh… no, not nerves. I just got into a fight."

"What? Physical?"

"No, verbal but this is a reaction to my past. The bullying. I just hate fights, all kinds of confrontation. It does this to me."

"Hm, and I thought I had it tough. My advice, if you don't like that stuff, is don't go into politics."

"Arigato, your advice is much appreciated," I turned to look at her and smiled weakly at her humour.

"Ew, gross, here." She gave me a tissue. I wiped my chin.

She pointed, "There. You missed a bit. No, you useless… here, let me."

She got another tissue, wet it with a little of her own spit and wiped my face.

"There, that's better."

"Thanks mom."

"Don't. I don't wanna hear about moms. Meddling, intrusive creatures."

"I'm sure they know best."

She looked at me levelly, "They have a damn funny way of showing it."

"Are things not going well between your parents and your boyfriend?"

I touched my finger to my jaw, felt a trace of her spit there. I wiped it away.

"They made him promise not to lay a finger on me until I was eighteen. It pisses me off. They have no right. I'm an adult now, I can make an adult's decisions and I want to have an adult's life."

"They only care about you, you know. It's love."

"It's meddling in affairs that are none of their business. Takashi had already told me he wanted that anyway and if it was our deal I guess I could have put up with that. I didn't agree but at least it was our decision. And, heh, I planned to work away at him anyway and get him to change his mind. But now… now he's gone all cold and formal on me. I guess he doesn't want to be tempted so he's playing it cooler now. So," she straightened up and picked up the bucket, closed the cupboard door, "there's my current angsty life story, such as it is. Now let's get this crap flushed down a drain somewhere."

We walked in silence. Guiltily I licked the finger I'd wiped her spit on. I just had to. Her fluid. I felt… It was… something I needed to do.

"Arigato."

"Whatever for?" she asked.

"Telling me that, you didn't have to. I guess I'm just nosey. And for the bucket."

"Ah, don't mention it. Anyway, I wanted you to know."

"Oh, why?"

"I just did. Just so you know," and she gave me a small sideways smile.

I wondered about that smile all that week, trying to understand her final comment.

"So who were you fighting?"

"Tonami. The new guy."

"The basketball player? Mister Seven Foot Tall And Knows It?"

"Hm."

"Well pick a fight with someone your own size next time."

"He's in Yukino's face too much. I don't know what his game is but Arima's getting seriously pissed at him and soon it'll explode."

"Good. I'll book a ringside seat and watch the fun."

"That's heartless of you."

"Not my business. Arima and I aren't exactly like that," and she held out her little finger in a hook shape.

"Friends, Maho. They're my friends, yours too, Yukino especially."

"I thought this was about Arima?"

"It's about her too, and they are about us, all of us, our group. We're all pieces in our puzzle."

"Oh, give me a break and leave out the philosophical clap trap. Pieces in a puzzle my arse. Some of us go through good times, some through bad. We all bounce back. I will."

"I can't be so blasé about it as you. My past is full of clutter that I carry. All the bullying I suffered. I hate seeing people fighting and hurting each other. If I can do my bit to help, I will."

"That's very noble of you."

"What the hell's up with you today?"

"I told you. My relationship is heading for the deck and there's fucking nothing I can do about it!"

I stopped, shocked. She'd raised her voice.

"Hey, come on," I reached out a hand, touched her upper arm, but she shook free of me.

"I'm fine. Arigato. I can handle it. I don't need any lesbian love either so don't do anything, okay?"

"No, you're _not_ fine. I have _never _heard you curse before. I'm just trying to help. You know, friendship and all that so-called philosophical clap trap."

"Yeah, well. Arigato but I'm fine all the same."

"No you're not."

"Alright, so I'm not! Happy now?"

"Lean on me. If you need to. You wanna talk? You know where I live, hm?"

"Yeah, right, and you'll have a nice warm place next to you in your bed as well."

"The offer's always there, Maho."

"What, the bed?"

"No, the friendship! My love doesn't just consist of my fingers and my tongue. I have a heart too and it hurts me when you forget that!" I refused to be drawn further by her catty comments.

We reached the lockers, got our bags. Outside at the taps she washed out the bucket and left it for our return.

At the pool she took a spare white shirt from her bag and thrust it at me.

"Here, I reckon we're pretty much the same size. Sleeves might be a bit long that's all."

"What's your bust size?"

"I'm not telling you that you damn perv."

"No worries, I'll read the label," I smiled at her.

"The label will just say 'M'. And I was right. You are a perv."

"What's new? You've known that for weeks."

"Yeah, well, I'm not coming in. I expect you're planning a seductive shower scene eh? You'll just accidentally happen to forget your towel and want me to bring it in to you won't you?"

"Actually I was going to ask you to scrub my back but maybe that's out of the question."

"Damn right it is. I'll see you back at Mission Control."

"See you in a bit. And… arigato."

"No sweat. Friendship, right?"

"Heh, you sound like Miyazawa."

"Don't say that. I'll have to slap you too."

But she smiled too. A smile from Maho was a good sign, a rare sign. I knew it was alright.

- - - oOo - - -

I showered and dried myself. I had a clean change of underwear in my bag, that and a few squirts of perfume and I felt human again. I picked up the slightly crumpled white blouse. I lifted it cautiously to my nose.

The faint scent of Maho was on it. Her French perfume, Arpegè. I breathed in deeply and felt warm, delightful, urgent things happening deep in my middle.

I pressed the cotton garment to my face.

Maho…

I…

I do want to help you. Talk to you. Be with you in this struggle.

In a funny way it would make me happy to see her happy. Even if that happiness was only found in the arms of another, I'd be happy.

I think that's love talking. True love. A love that's true will let your love go as long as they are happy.

I wiped my eyes.

_Baka._

There's no time for this.

- - - oOo - - -

"_Gone out to the flood weir by the river for lunch. See you there."_

The scrap of paper pinned to Mission Control's planning board was written in Yukino's sharp, impeccable kanji. I picked my bento from my bag and went back the way I'd come.

Out at the big weir on the river I saw them. Rika and Aya were sat near the top of the embankment chatting away conspiratorially over something, Asapin was to one side on his back, his hands tucked behind his head, dozing. Yukino and Maho were down the slope, near the water, both leaning back on their arms watching the river.

I went past Asapin and kicked his foot.

"Hi."

He opened one eye.

"Bitch. I was asleep."

"Love you too."

I sat by Maho.

"Found us then?"

"No. Got hopelessly lost but here I am in a dream and you're all here too, so it's fine."

"You're in a funny mood," Yukino leaned over and put her palm across my forehead, "Hm, warm, clammy. You might be going down with something."

"You moron," Maho cut in, "she's just had a shower."

"So, what's happening?" I asked chirpily.

"How does the shirt fit? Let's have a look. Turn round."

"It's fine."

"Did you lend her your clothes?" Yukino asked.

"Just a shirt! It's not like I let her wear my underwear or anything!"

"Ooh…" I put my hands together under my chin and made big fluttery anime eyes, "That would be so utterly dreamy…!"

"Oh, God, you're perverted!" Yukino make a puking, gagging gesture.

"Nothing wrong with sniffing Maho's underwear!" I said, rather too loudly.

"Ew, gross!" Maho said, "I'm gonna lose my prawn salad in a minute!"

"Yeah, you keep your lezzy fantasies to yourself, okay?"

"Mmm…", I smiled, "Well if I go out of lessons for an hour this afternoon, you'll know which cubicle I'm in. Just follow the moaning noises."

"Oh, I can't believe this, you are so dirty!" Maho looked at me crossly, but I could see her smiling. It was cool, just a bit of silly fun.

"It's lovely out here isn't it?" I said, a few minutes later as I ate.

"Hm. We should come out here later in the week and rehearse out here."

"Oh, yeah, that'd be great."

"Things are looking promising. It looks like things will work out," Maho picked up a stone and threw it in the water.

"What?" said Yukino, "You're not saying we should ditch the play any more?"

"What? Oh, no. Not really."

"But with Aya busy this is going to be tough," Yukino replied.

"What?" a voice came from above and behind us, "I'm still doing it. I'm the one who started it after all. I'll carry on helping with the planning and on the day of course."

" 'Kay!"

"Say, I was thinking," Maho asked Yukino, "Why did you suddenly decide to do the play? You were so dead against it in the beginning."

"Well, don't laugh but it was the first thing I ever found interesting other than studying."

"Eh? Wassat?" I feigned shock, "Arima isn't interesting?"

"Well we all knew that," Maho joked.

"No! You…baka! I meant on my _own_. Something to focus on, on my own. For a while now I've wanted something else to be absorbed in. Remember our conversation that day at Shibuya? When Tsubasa ran away from home? I've only got my studies and Arima but Arima has a separate and complete world of his own and went to the Nationals and stuff. It's not that I feel bad but I wanted my own world too, you know?"

"Yeah. I know exactly," Maho looked through me at the distant river bridge.

I looked at her and saw there in her eyes that sad expression of longing again.

"I think it has to be this way. Besides, Arima loves me."

"What?" Maho shot back at her, "What's all the bragging for now?"

"I'm not bragging! Arima's world is deeper than mine. I think he would take all the burden onto himself rather than let me worry and suffer, since I'm so naïve."

"That's what I thought."

"So I decided I'd build my own world for myself. I like being able to depend on Arima but I won't let him spoil me and get lazy because of it."

"And of all the girls out there, is that why Arima responds only to you?"

I looked carefully at Maho, was she serious? No, she must be making a joke.

"Are you laughing at me? What's with that? I'm always the one doing the talking so don't laugh at me! Why don't you talk about yourself, hm?!"

"And leave myself wide open for you to laugh at me? No way!"

"Come on, talk!"

Yukino went for her and grabbed her around the middle, tickling. Maho squealed.

"No, stop!"

She writhed and Yukino went for it, running her fingers up her sides. Maho went mental, laughing like a loon.

"You guys!"

I grabbed Yukino, tickling her to get her off Maho.

"Hey! Don't get at me!" she yelped, "It's Maho who's making jokes at my expense! Get her!"

A thought occurred to me. A delicious one.

"Oh. Yeah!"

I went for the places higher on her sides under her arms. Maho writhed screaming and giggling on the grass.

"Not you too, bitch! Nooo, get your pervert hands off meeee! Ah, no, onegai! Stop!"

I'd never seen her laugh so much. She was beautiful.

"Oh my God!" I said, "She's so ticklish!"

"Come on, help me!"

"Noooo, stoop! Ahhhh!"

Maho's back arched and her shirt came away from her skirt. A slice of bare flesh showed so I though '_heck, why not?_' and put my fingers there, flickering lightly on her stomach. She was warm and wriggly and wonderful and almost being sick through laughing. Her face had gone bright red.

Aya's voice shouted to us.

"Hey! You lesbians over there! Come on, the bell's ringing!"

Yukino and I stopped and stared at each other.

"What did she call us?" Yukino asked me.

"I think she was talking to you."

And she burst out laughing, and I did too. And under us Maho gasped and sucked in breath.

And then she was laughing too.

- - - oOo - - -

And we did the same on the Friday too. The day before the culture fest. We came out there by the river and the four of us, me, Yukino, Maho and Tsubasa, spoke through our lines. We took no scripts with us that day and spoke them from memory. I was stood to one side watching one of the long exchanges between Maho and Yukino and a thought came to me.

_My God. This is good stuff. This is gonna blow them away. Hokuei High won't have seen playwriting of this quality for years. This will be talked about for a long time. I want to be a part of this. I feel like I belong here._

_I belong._

It was a good feeling. The best.

T minus one day and counting.

Tomorrow it would happen.

- - - oOo - - -

_17 – 19 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Six, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	57. Houston We May Have A Small Problem Here

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Seven – ****Houston, We May Have A Small Problem Here**

"_A makeshift salvation is nothing but deception. No matter how hard it is, don't run away and we'll overcome it together.__"_

- Ikari Keiichi,_ Paranoia Agent, Episode 13_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

14 Days / 9

Saturday the sixteenth of September 1995 was a very peculiar day. A lot happened that day yet it felt like very little did. The things that did happen while they overpowered me and took over my mind, occupied only very small parts of the day.

The rest of the day I sat about, alone, my mind running in circles.

Mostly through good old fashioned fear. Stage fright.

Afterwards, now… yes, I can stand before you now and say I enjoyed it. It was good, good for my ego, good for my soul, good for my heart.

It was good for my future, too.

I think if I look back on that day, I can say that was really the day it began. It was the day _we_ started. Something started that day that was to last for over two years, two beautiful wondrous years, for all the rest of the time I attended Hokuei High. It was an amazing time and that was the day it started.

Which is why, now, my heart goes back to that day, and bleeds for it.

The Culture Festival was officially opened at nine in the morning.

By ten past I was sat in Mission Control, my arms folded on a desk and my head on my arms. Just sitting and fretting, on and on and on. For hours.

_T minus 2 hours 50 minutes and counting…_

Hey, want some advice? Are you a shy person? Don't agree to act in a play. It sucks. Big time. The fun of it doesn't compensate for the sheer underwear-wetting, gut-churning, naked raw fear of the days and hours beforehand.

I think I lost about five pounds weight in that two week preparation period, most of it through my sweat glands.

We'd booked two slots: twelve until one and then four until five in the afternoon. At eleven thirty I was still crumpled up at that Mission Control desk. The room had been empty all morning and I'd avoided the whole culture fest.

I couldn't relax. I just couldn't.

Yukino stuck her head around the door.

"Oh, you're here, Sakana. Let's go. Time to get costumed and made up."

"Hrn…"

"Sakana?"

"Right, right."

_T minus 27 minutes and counting… Houston, we may have a small problem here…_

I stood up but my legs wouldn't work. She came over to me, laid a hand on my arm.

"Are you okay?"

"No, not really."

"Nerves?"

"Yeah…"

"We're all nervous, Sakana. Even me. I don't show it that way though. I just run around panicking and burning up energy instead. Maho too. Maho has it bad. I just found her sat under the sinks in the girl's washroom. She'd thrown up. So… don't feel bad, we're all in this together. We'll all help each other. Alright?"

"Hm… I think so."

"Good. Let's go."

_Mission control, we are good to resume countdown to launch…_

- - - oOo - - -

Eleven forty. Getting into my costume.

_Ha ha, like an astronaut suiting up, I can take this metaphor as far as you like…_

Tsubasa, Yukino and Maho were lucky. They wore normal clothes. I had a costume that was one piece and I couldn't wear anything under it, so even though I was the most nervous person there and probably the shyest, it was me who had to strip to my skin in the communal changing room and put this thing on.

As it was the most visually complex costume of the four and was quite tricky to put on, Rika helped me. She would see all of me but to be honest I was past caring. My body was running on pure adrenalin by that point.

But compared to the others – with the possible exception of Maho who looked stunning in her black suit – my costume was impressive. It was a one piece body suit, completely skin fitting and made of very stretchy material. It wasn't totally opaque either but there was a small amount of sheer (if not exactly translucent) appearance to the cloth. It was skin toned and without any other covering, if you'd glanced at me from a distance, I would appear to be naked.

But about half the surface was covered by these small flexible rubbery silver plates. Asapin had got a roll of this silver rubber sheeting from someone at the nightclub where it was used as a wall covering and decoration. It was about three millimeters thick, very soft and floppy and Rika had cut it up into squares and rectangles of various sizes and stitched these small panels to the body suit. It was smooth on one side and covered with a pattern of cross-hatching on the other. By varying which side was uppermost Rika had made a neat effect. She'd covered all the right leg, front and back and the right hip and my groin area and the right side of my bottom. Then she'd covered the left side of my stomach, chest and my left breast and shoulder. Then the right side of my back and my entire right arm. A stiffener of clear plastic supported a stand up collar of it and on my head I wore an ordinary swimming cap to which more very small squares had been hot-glued. My face was painted half silver. I wore one silver glove on my left hand and on my feet ordinary silver slippers.

I got in and out of it at the back via an opening from collar to the base of my spine which was closed by a velcro strip hidden under the silver rubber. When it was finally on and my make-up applied I looked at myself in the mirror.

I have to say the effect was incredible. My part was that of a cyborg, a cybernetic living organism, part woman, part machine. The costume wasn't meant to be realistic but symbolic. The harlequin pattern of skin and metal plates represented a person who was half living tissue and half mechanical.

I have to say, it looked brilliant.

It was also rather rude. One half of my groin was only covered by the semi-sheer body stocking, as was one of my bum cheeks and one breast. Being thin material you could very faintly see the shadow of the nipple. Ah, well, even if I screwed up my lines, the boys would enjoy it. At least it was warm in the hall and nothing would get cold and stick up.

But behind that amazing mask of silver paint make-up I felt like I wasn't a real person, I could hide from people, I was protected by the armour of impersonality. It felt good. Strange, yes, but very good.

Yukino wore what almost looked like a military uniform. Heavy lace up desert boots with platform soles to make her taller, pale grey canvas trousers, a dark grey slip-over roll-necked shirt, heavy brown engineers gauntlets and for a couple of her scenes, a white lab coat. She had a few accessories such as a bulky black utility style belt and cross belts over her chest of black leather. Yeah, quite militaristic. And Rika had made her wear cloth breast bindings wound tightly around so her bust was reduced which made her look more like a man. Her hair had been tied tightly back and gathered in a small pony tail. Glance quickly at her and she'd easily pass for a guy.

Tsubasa was very cute. She played the part of the Professors earliest robot and she wore a European style Victorian dress, all pink and flowery with white petticoats and collars and big bows in her hair and so on. Her make-up included heavily rouged lips and cheeks and eye liner. She looked like a doll, which was exactly the effect Aya intended.

And Maho.

God, Maho looked gorgeous.

Easily the most stunning costume of all of us, yet the simplest too. Black ankle boots, drainpipe-straight black trousers and a black jacket cut straight and formal and tight. She wore dark grey close fitting women's leather gloves, a plain white shirt and at the throat a black bootlace tie, American style. Her hair though was the most stunning part of the look. Aya had seen at once that the thing you notice about Maho is her face. Her face is so pretty, especially her dark eyes and clear skin, so to draw attention to her face Aya and Rika had styled her hair by drawing it tightly back at the sides and gathering it into a ponytail towards the left lower rear of her scalp, so the ponytail hung down behind her left shoulder. If she turned her head to the right, the ponytail came over the shoulder and hung in front. The only part of her hair not gathered back was the right side of her fringe and to this Rika had added hair extensions so this side of the fringe became a wide curtain that hung partly across her face, her right eye sometimes being covered. The right side fringe hung down to her bust. She had pale make up, not white but getting that way, very pale but with dark eye liner.

With the militaristic looking Professor and the all black grey and white Maho, Tsubasa's pink robot girl was a complete contrast. And the parts of me that were flesh coloured also contrasted strongly with Maho's character.

In Tsubasa the audience would see a doll, a child-like primitive robot. In Maho they'd see a cool, clear thinking, advanced, intelligent machine. In me they'd see a conflict. An entity drawn two ways, partly human, partly mechanical with a mind and heart confused by two conflicting needs.

I thought about this. Of course Aya had written the roles for Tsubasa and Maho perfectly. And Yukino had easily the most lines. I think more than the rest of us put together, and it was her character that went through the most life-changing revelations in the story.

But my character. Well, I puzzled over that. I'm pretty sure Aya had worked out what it was with me. That I was gay, or at the very least bi-sexual. It was quite unnerving to be given a role in a play by a girl you knew just a little only to find that performing the character she'd written for you was like standing in front of a mirror and admitting some of your deepest secrets to it.

And that was the other way that today was special. It was an emotional scouring I went through that day. Playing that character I was standing up in front of the whole school and telling them what forces drove me. The conflicts in my sexuality that confused me but made me what I am and it was an opportunity for me to stand there and say "this is me, this is how I am and I'm not afraid to say it."

Healing, I think, in a way.

It's good for you.

I ended that day filled with all sorts of emotions. A sense of cleanliness in my spirit was one of them.

I recommend the end result, it's the process we used I'm not convinced of.

- - - oOo - - -

Eleven fifty. We went backstage.

_T minus ten minutes…_

Kyo, Aya's older brother was there with one of his TV studio friends. They would run the videos on the big flat screen.

One of Asapin's night club friends was there too. He was in charge of the lighting desk. He had long, ridiculously blonde dyed hair with red streaks in it. I don't think the red streaks were natural either.

As we went past him he whistled.

"Whoa. You guys look great!"

I turned to him. His gaze fell to my chest.

"Are you Ryusaki-san? Hideaki mentioned you."

"Yes, that's me."

"You're beautiful. I reckon with guys like you on stage, this is gonna rock!"

"Arigato."

I went past him, feeling his eyes on my back.

"Hey!" he shouted after me, "I'm Koichi. You should wear that outfit to the club sometime!"

I raised an arm.

Aya was at the sound desk. She'd wanted to do the background music and sound effects right from the beginning, so we used Rika as our stage prompt but Yukino was so confident she said we didn't really need one.

- - - oOo - - -

Eleven fifty five. We took up our positions. Yukino climbed into her cryogenic bed. I was impressed. It had a clear perspex cover and looked every inch a thing of futuristic style.

Tsubasa took up her "inert" position backstage against the book cases. She sat back limp, just like a doll.

_T minus five minutes…_

I glanced out around the side curtains. Oh, wow, the hall was filling up. We had twenty six seats per row and thirty one rows. A quick count told me we'd sold three quarters of the tickets. Easily.

Oh God. Six hundred people.

The five minute bell sounded.

- - - oOo - - -

Eleven fifty nine. Nothing to do now but count down. The second bell sounded.

Deep slow breaths.

This was it.

No way out now.

_Ten… nine… eight… seven…_

- - - oOo - - -

Noon. The house lights dimmed. The hall became dark.

_Main engine firing sequence commencing…_

You know the space rocket launch analogy works well for this particular play.

I felt the rumble of the rockets, the whoosh of smoke. That was my own body though, just nerves…

Yukino's pre-recorded voice came over the PA system.

- - - oOo - - -

_22 – 24 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Seven, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	58. Steel Snow, Act One

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Eight – Steel Snow, Act One**

_"If you aren't remembered, then you never existed." _

_- Arisu, Serial Experiments Lain _

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

14 Days / 10

Yukino's pre-recorded voice came over the PA system.

"I wonder how long… this steel snow has been falling in my heart…? Always falling, and falling, never ceasing. All that I wanted was to make others happy. That was all… So where did I go wrong?"

A man's voice over the PA. I later found out Aya's father had done this. He sounded cool, a bit like a voice over on those science documentaries about the space race.

"The twenty second century is well advanced. Late in the last century humans created androids. The science of self-determining artificial intelligence, sought after by computer scientists since the war of the middle of the twentieth century had finally born fruit. Today there is an android helper for every family and the number of androids has reached half the population of humans. These androids combine all the convenience of security, alarm and policing systems with brains far beyond the power of the personal computers of the end of the last millennium. A person has only to say "I want to wake at seven in the morning" and his android servant will wake him with a refreshing drink and an up-to-the-second downloaded digital newspaper, will serve a breakfast, have the bath filled and ready and will lay out clean recycled clothes.

"Observe a virtual community office and you will see clerical androids working diligently. On heavy construction or maintenance jobs, powerful worker androids will be employed, each able to use a variety of specialist tools in place of their normal arms or legs.

"As the sun sets you can smell the delicious aroma of dinners cooking under the Parisian-chef skills of domestic androids.

"They have become mankind's greatest partners, some might suggest even his greatest friends. We can no longer live without them…"

Puccini's "Gianni Schicchi: O Mio Babbino Caro" began to play, the soft strings and brass climbing all around the auditorium, the gentle melody like a warm spring morning. Comforting, joyful, a more gentle human sound would be hard to name.

Even in the first thirty seconds something about that touched me and I thought this day might become special.

The curtains drew aside and the set was in darkness except for a multitude of red blinking lights along the base of the cryogenic bed, the comms desk and the keyboards below the giant monitor.

On the monitor a star system video began to roll, the camera panning across the night sky, the planets swung past, the outer plants, Uranus, Neptune, Saturn, Jupiter. As the video swung over to a close up of one of Jupiter's moons the small planet filled the screen and over it's horizon rose the sun, small and distant but still bright enough and familiar enough to be a symbol of life and rebirth.

On the dark stage a white light came on inside the sleeping casket. Set into its lid was a prism and as the revolving white light lit the prism a spilling rainbow of colours lit the set from inside the clear lid.

With a faint hiss and light mechanical whine the lid hinged at one end and began to lift. The red lights along the casket's base switched to a row of green ones and as the last of these illuminated the set lights came gently on.

After a second or two's delay the Professor's hand rose up and held the side of the casket. He slowly sat up, stretched, yawned and climbed out.

From the wings I watched Yukino. What struck me was that she didn't make any hurried movements. Everything was slow and relaxed, the pace at which a person _would_ go about their waking as if they were alone.

The Professor unbuttoned and took off the white coat and drew on boots and gloves, a symbolic act of dressing.

"Ah, Puccini," he said, "Beautiful. I couldn't have asked for better music to wake up to after eighty years of cold sleep. I wonder who set my favourite music to play as I woke? There shouldn't be anyone here except me and Antique. Hm, and Sigh but she's in sleep mode too isn't she? Did Antique select the music? Perhaps that old piece of junk can do something useful after all. I should thank her."

The Professor walked to the back of the stage and slid aside a panel in the bottom of the bookcase to reveal Tsubasa sat doll-like in the space. Lights came on. The professor opened a drawer beside the monitor. He pulled out a fistful of remote control handsets, dropping a couple.

"Now which remote was it? This one?"

The monitor came blaring on with a loud commercial for hi-protein breakfast concentrates.

"Ah! Wrong one. That's the TV." (it went dead again), "This one's the air purifier. Hm, security… Ah being asleep for eighty years… it's ruined my head… Hm, here it is."

He pressed a button. Antique came to life and crawled jerkily out of her cupboard and started to wander around, bashing into things. There was a light chuckle from the audience as Tsubasa did what Tsubasa always does; wreck the place.

"Are you alright? You look like a child but you're more run down than I am."

The short girl-like machine turned to him.

"Good morning Master Ren."

"Good morning Antique. It's been eighty years now. How are you doing?"

She reached behind her and seemingly at random put a hand under a shelf of the bookcase. One whole section of it lifted up. We'd had a section made separately that ran on side runners between the two other parts and this section was hauled up on pulleys by a couple of stage hands while a third pushed the back of it making a couple of books fall out. We didn't have much time for special effects but this one worked well and there was another smattering of laughter from the audience.

Antique let the bookcase drop down and picked a thick yellow book out at random, tearing it easily in half (we'd sawn most of the way through a telephone directory – Tsubasa only had to tear the last few pages). There was more laughter.

"You seem better than ever, Antique. By the way, was it you who set that music to play before you went into sleep mode? I never knew you could do something as intricate as understanding my taste in music."

Antique merely looked puzzled and made a buzzing sound.

"I will make some food for you, Master Ren. Today I'll prepare café au lait, honey, toast, ham, eggs and salad…"

The Professor looked worried.

"But that's all you ever make."

Antique went off stage right. There was a red light and a "bing!" of a bell something like a microwave and she came back almost at once with a tray of food, placing it on the round old-fashioned European table in the centre of the stage.

"You have fifty recipes programmed in. Yet you make the same thing every time! I want black coffee! Black! Agh, you're putting milk in!"

Antique poured milk from a silver canister. Professor Ren walked to the table.

"Agh, it's the same thing all the time. And your cooking tastes terrible! It looks like if I want something different I'll have to make it myself! Stupid robot! Why do we humans have to work so hard?"

"Here is your meal."

"Yeah, hm, thanks," he tasted the coffee, "Yech! This is revolting!"

Professor Ren picked up a slice of toast with far too much honey on it. A long thick string of it dripped down to the plate. Antique watched Ren attentively.

"What? What is it?" he asked her.

"Well. I'm hungry too. At least I think this is hunger."

"I never gave you that functionality did I?"

"Actually, yes you did, Master."

Antique went stage right and produced a plastic box a bit like a cereal box, upended it to her mouth and started to loudly demolish the contents. The audience laughed.

Ren sat at the table and put his head in his hands.

"Pathetic! This is pathetic. When I was on earth I was Ren Crawford the young genius robot designer. Now I'm just a crazy recluse being jerked around by this stupid cranky ancient robot.

"Well I suppose I got what I deserved. You were the first android I created. After you I made plenty of more intelligent and useful androids. And the cyborg project. Hm, that turned out to be a mixed blessing. Where is Sigh? Is she in storage in bay two as usual?"

"My memory banks indicate that she is," Antique responded.

"Wake her up for me would you? I need some company, someone I can actually talk with rather than you."

Antique left the stage to the left, towards me. A little flutter came into my stomach. This was it, almost time…

"It's peculiar," Ren continued, "After Antique I made a lot of far more useful and intelligent androids but that stupid Antique has always been the only robot that didn't bore me. I just don't understand it.

"And something is strange around here. Antique has the intelligence of a five year old child. There's no way she could have programmed the machine to play Puccini to wake her master. So… how did it get set? Was it Sigh? Did she activate while I was in frozen sleep?"

Tsubasa took my hand and led me onto the stage from the lab side of the set. I came out into the set lights, nervous as a virgin, Antique still holding my hand. Tsubasa was moving a little jerkily all the time, something like a marionette to emphasize the crudity of her construction. I walked slowly and smoothly. There were several gasps from the audience, in response to my costume I assumed.

From somewhere I remembered my first line and even my voice worked. I slanted it so that it sounded slightly sexy, a little sultry.

"Ren, hello, you're awake. You look well. Is there anything I can do for you? A massage perhaps?"

"Sigh, how are you? Everything working fine?"

"Yes. Although I'm a little lonely. Can we spend some time together?"

"Would you like to make me breakfast?"

"Oh, yes, I'd love to. But…" I looked at the tray, "have you already eaten?"

"No, that was Antique. So I've not eaten any of it."

I smiled in understanding.

"Antique? So too much honey on the toast again. And ham and eggs once more…"

"Sadly, yes…"

Another light chuckle from the anonymous darkness in front of the stage. I picked up the tray and Antique's food box and a few other dropped props.

"I'll recycle this and do something else right away."

I gave a big sigh as though in love.

"Oh, Sigh, you weren't operating at all were you, while I was sleeping?"

"Of course not, Ren. If you weren't awake why on earth would I want to be?"

I left, stage right.

"So who set the music?" Ren spoke to himself, "Who's been here while I was asleep? This base isn't on the star navigation charts. No-one could make it here."

Antique came back on stage drinking via a flexible hose from what looked like a two gallon petrol can. There was more laughter, she was certainly hamming it up.

"Whoever it was would have had to crack through numerous passwords to get in. It's impossible."

The red lamp flashed and the food preparation computer binged again. I went back on with a second tray with different crockery on it.

"Breakfast for you Ren." I put the tray down, "I think this should be more to your liking. At least a real person made it, with real emotions…" I gave Antique a long hard stare but she looked up at me blankly and continued to make loud sucky feeding noises from her petrol can.

Ren sat and ate, I sat next to him, and resting my chin on my palms I watched his every move, transfixed. As he reached for the salt and pepper I lifted it for him a moment before he needed it. I did the same with his drink. The prompt was that actually I moved first and Yukino moved a second after making it look like I was out thinking Ren.

"Hm," he said, "black coffee. Tastes good."

"I'm so happy you like my cooking. It makes me feel loved."

He looked at me askance, "Are you sure you're alright Sigh? Nothing misfired when you were warming up from sleep mode?"

I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair.

"No. I feel fine. Now…"

Ren finished eating and sat there drumming his fingers pensively on the table while I cleared away the tray.

"Hm. This is the secret home of the genius scientist Ren Crawford. I built it so I would never be found or disturbed – as long as I live."

A female voice came over the PA speaking over the top of a whining alarm buzzer. The voice was Kano, Yukino's younger sister – she'd so wanted to be involved in the play and Aya had let her record these lines and then slowed the recording down giving her a deep husky voice.

"Unknown entity access at airlock one. Unknown entity access at airlock one. Security lock override has been disabled. Security lock override has been disabled. Unknown entity access of living spaces. Unknown entity access of living spaces. Warning! Intruder! Warning! Intruder!"

The alarm suddenly cut off.

"I'm here…" came a soft voice out of the deep silence.

"Master," Antique put down her petrol can and pointed off stage left.

That side of the stage wasn't lit and Maho entered in the pitch dark. A spotlight turned on her. The audience gasped. Inside (and I have to admit very nearly outside) so did I. Wow. She was beautiful.

"How on earth did you get in?" Ren spoke, standing up, "And who are you?"

"Please. Forgive me for intruding on your privacy Maestro Ren," Maho spoke slowly and carefully, annunciating each syllable perfectly. She spoke in her deep smooth almost masculine tone, the tone I was so in love with, "I am Neo Model. I am an android 567,000 times more advanced than Antique. Since you have been here, decades of artificial intelligence growth have passed on earth. I am the end product of that evolution."

"You just came in through all my security systems?! The physical locks as well?"

"Yes. I am sorry. I could have spoken with you over a communication link but wanted to meet you in person. And if I did not force entry I feared you would refuse."

"Damn right!" Ren approached her and spoke right in her face, "But you must have cracked my security codes while on approach? And accessed my computers remotely to wake me up?"

"Forgive me… But it is such an honour to meet the great scientist who created us all."

"You're alone? Did you navigate here on your own? And all my passwords, you deciphered those?"

"Yes."

Ren stared at her, then he turned away and ran a hand through his hair, he walked around the table and at the far side, leaned on a chair back, staring at her.

"This is… a shock. I can't believe that the android's self-evolution program would advance so far in the short time I've been asleep. My passwords were broken by my own machine. And the way you talk and act… it's no different from any human."

He paused and looked at Neo, she looked back. Then Ren straightened up and walked slowly to her and all around her. He stopped in front of her and stared closely into her eyes for a few seconds before putting his arms on her shoulders, resting his arms there above the elbows so his face was within an inch of hers, staring all the time.

Damn. I so wanted that part!

I moved, walking slowly towards the couple, a look of pain on my face. A short way away I reached out an arm but let it drop, and looked away sadly.

"Your face," Ren said, "It's beautiful. You're not a robot. You're more like a work of art."

"This chassis is the Alpha Twenty One Twelve Model," Neo responded, "It is fully functional. This particular operational shell was built as a Japanese human female. I can perform any task from working in hazardous environments such as hot radioactivity to zero atmosphere to underwater depths of 4,000 metres. My outer membrane is designed to have the texture and temperature and sheen of human flesh. I can even engage digital pressure sensors on it so that I can, if I wish, feel you touching me. I can also undertake any domestic tasks. Even such as might be required of me… in your bedroom."

They continued to stare at each other. Antique then popped up between them by climbing on the table.

"Time to play!" she sang.

"Antique!" Ren snapped at her, "Hey, I'm being serious here! And all you can think about is playing. You could learn from your descendant. Look how intelligent she is."

Neo turned to look at me. She walked to me and then around me, inspecting me closely from every angle.

"Ren, my darling," I said, sounding peeved, "are you going to introduce me, or are you going to allow this well-dressed pencil sharpener to just _stare_ at me?"

A small chuckle from the audience.

"Neo Model, this is Sigh. She is a design of mine from some decades ago in which a human body was combined with a partial cybernetic synthetic sub structure. She was a volunteer, weren't you Sigh? Scarred by a horrific accident you agreed to be my guinea pig and undergo surgery and reconstruction to produce a most wonderful creature. Part human and part machine. In here," he placed his hand on the silvered side of my chest, "is a mechanical heart and here," the side of my face, "a machine central processor unit but you have a soul and complete human feelings. I think Sigh was my most inspired creation. My most beautiful. Sadly there were all kinds of ethical and legal issues involved and after a long test case with a second injured volunteer it was declared illegal to modify humans with any mechanical parts beyond medically necessary organ replacements. Sigh was by then legally protected and allowed to live. The second volunteer had his life support machine switched off. It could have been a great and meaningful line of scientific study and of human existence. But it was a dead end. Sigh is all that remains of that dream."

"I am grateful to you Ren," I said, "You know I am. So grateful. Every minute I've lived since that terrible incident, has been given to me by you."

"Sigh?" Neo asked.

"Partly a joke by Ren," I answered her, "Sigh-borg, you see?" small chuckles came from the audience, "And partly… partly an emotion…"

There was a pause and, I was pleased to hear, silence in the auditorium.

Neo was still close to me.

"Your respiratory circuits seem to be running 37 per cent above nominal rate," she observed, "Why is that?"

I looked at her, then at Ren and awkward and confused, I turned away and withdrew to stage right where I placed a hand on the white lab coat Ren had left draped on the lid of the bed. I picked it up and held it tenderly.

"Well then," Ren asked Neo, "why are you here? If it's a request from the government then don't even ask. Those guys do nothing but work you into the ground and bleed you dry for taxes. You didn't come to ask me to work did you? Or did you come for the reward? If you take me back to earth you get, what was it? Fifty million New Dollars."

"No, none of those," she paused, "I would like to stay here."

"What?"

"I am the pinnacle of android evolution. The system you designed cannot advance beyond this stage – the way data is processed, even though it is faster than the speed of human thought, it is a matter of miniaturization. The mass of processors simply can no longer fit into the main system bus and communicate with it efficiently. And in the last eight years since I was built, no-one on earth has been successful in designing an alternative. There will not be any androids more advanced than I for many years. There isn't any knowledge from the vast database of human history and literature and experience I do not possess…"

During this speech the set lights dimmed and a spot light illuminated only Neo. I and Ren stood visible, but looking puzzled under fainter spots.

"…Except…" she paused, "…I do not know anything about the person who created me. You erased all information about yourself. What I know of you I have learned from others and the sons of others who worked with you. What kind of person is my creator? Why did he suddenly disappear when he was so rich and famous? And why is he living in such a desolate corner of space? You are a legend clothed in mystery and I want to learn about you. But you left earth long before I came into being. You have been a myth for ten times as long as I have existed. I did not know you would even be still alive. But now I've finally found you… please let me stay here. Then I will find my answers."

She paused while Ren walked over to me and I turned to face him, still holding the white lab coat and looking lost. We looked at each other for a moment.

"And besides," Neo continued, "I can be more useful than that funny little old robot do you think? And a better companion than you?" she turned and gave me a long look.

"Yes, you can stay," Ren answered, still staring at me.

The set lights dimmed to black, the action froze and Yukino's voice came over the PA system.

"My curiosity won. I was going to refuse her. I didn't want to have any involvement with the earth ever again. But when Neo showed hostility and superiority over Antique and Sigh I couldn't help – as a scientist – getting excited that something could evolve this far. My curiosity won over my desire not to insult Antique or Sigh. I decided to tactfully study Neo and then send her back. Of course I'm not going to tell her about my past. Who would tell such things to a machine? But androids can't betray humans. They can't hurt humans."

The lights came up on scene two.

Antique moved randomly about the stage, wiping small bits of floor, then parts of chairs but not finishing them before wiping part of the table, the bed, the bookshelves.

Neo and Ren were standing, stage right, watching her.

"What is she doing?" Neo asked.

"Cleaning, But, anyway, could you make some food for me?"

At the sound of the word 'food' Antique turned round, smiling.

"Good morning Master Ren. I will make breakfast for you. Today I'll serve café au lait, toast and honey…"

"I will prepare breakfast today," Neo interrupted.

"No," I broke in, entering from stage left and raising a hand, "if Ren does not want to eat Antique's cooking, I'll cook for him."

"I think you will find that I will prepare it faster and I have a wider range of culinary skills. Ren might wish to eat Moroccan tagine, New Orleans soul food, Spanish paella, Chinese duck…"

"I think you'll find that the love put into cooking by the human heart will far outweigh the technical perfection of any machine," I walked up to Neo and stared into her face, "I'm cooking and that's the end of it."

"Sigh," Ren spoke quietly, "Please let Neo cook. I would like to see what she is capable of."

As Neo left the stage I went to the table where Ren had just sat down.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't cook for you, you prefer that - toy - to clean the place, you even prefer to sleep alone. What is my purpose here?"

Neo returned.

"I went to the food supply storage unit. I took the liberty of placing all the food cells in the incubator. So you can have anything you want. Roast beef, pot au feu, rye bread, curry, cheesecake…"

Ren broke out into laughter.

"I almost forgot how much easier life can be with an android around."

Antique walked past us randomly, spitefully hitting things. Ren reached for her on one of her passes and grabbed her arm, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"No-one said I didn't like you any more, Antique."

"And me?" I asked him, "What did anyone say about me?"

"Of course I like you…"

"_Like_ me?"

"That's right, _like_ you. I like you. You're not my servant like a robot can be, you're my companion."

"Is this what being your companion is?"

"Of course."

"Being forgotten when someone more interesting turns up."

"What are you talking about? I'm doing scientific study here."

"Is that what it is? Well if it's so intimate why don't you scientifically study me for once? Or is Antique, as you say, the only robot you've ever loved?"

"You're not a robot!"

"Oh I'm so glad your eyesight hasn't deteriorated from eighty years of cryogenic dreams. But if you'd care to actually _look_, you'd see I'm still a complete woman!"

Angrily I turned and exited stage left. Ren shrugged and ate the food Neo had just placed on the table.

"Mm, this is good," he said.

"Thank you for your kind words."

"You don't have to stand."

"No thank you," Neo waited, her back razor straight, arms by her sides, as always, "I will stand."

The lights dimmed. While the stage was in darkness we did a quick scene change. Antique was given a length of timber and a knife and moved to stage left where she sat down and began whittling. The food was removed and Ren went to sit in front of the main monitor, Neo beside him. The monitor came to life, pages of numbers, formulae and data lists scrolling past.

Ren sat looking at it, occasionally pressing a key.

"So this is the process you used to decipher the passwords? Impressive."

"Thank you very much," Neo responded as cool and detached as always.

Ren turned and noticed Antique.

"What is she doing?"

"She started doing that after she read a wood-carving book," Neo supplied, which brought a few laughs from the audience.

"Would you mind if I ran a brain scan on you?" Ren asked.

"Not at all."

Ren pulled two cables from the drawer by the monitor. He connected the ends to the back of Neo's neck. Rika had taped lengths of plastic barrels from two pens inside Maho's jacket collar and the jack plugs push fitted into these. Ren worked at the keyboard and data scrolled up the screen. After a minute or so paper sheets spewed out of a slot beside the keyboard.

During this time, to give the audience something to watch, Antique put her wood down in a recess behind a footlight (which we weren't using) and from it pulled a set of children's brightly painted building blocks and began to assemble them into a man-like structure, clearly a robot.

"The development of your digital network is incredible," Ren said, "Your information processing unit isn't quite as sophisticated as the human brain but the output and the precision of your nerve system goes far beyond human capability."

"Please tell me about the process androids took to develop this far."

"I will."

Antique continued building her wooden robot. It was stood about two feet high now. It lacked only a head.

"I'm so glad I can have such a technical discussion with you. I really enjoy it."

Watching from the wings I saw Maho make the first of her important expressive gestures. It was quite hard for her to introduce emotion into her character because she was depicting a cool, efficient machine, but now she hung her head looked a little sad and turned her face away.

That was my cue to re-enter the set and approach Neo and stand watching her. The purpose of my presence was to reinforce to the audience that something significant was going on inside the android.

Antique put the head on her wooden robot, studied it for a few seconds, then removed the head again. She got up and went off stage right.

"Oh, damn it! Antique is making the food," Ren exclaimed.

"I'm sorry Ren," I said, moving past Neo who was still wired up to the computer, "I should have been watching. I will prepare some instead."

"No, it's all right, once you get used to it, it's not so bad, even if the toast is soaked with honey until it's floppy and the coffee is like mud."

"Don't be silly, Antique is a child. She can't make food properly. Let an adult make it. A caring adult."

I exited, stage right and shooed Antique back on.

"Now I would like to look into your self-diagnostic and maintenance routines and your security back up functions – ow!"

Antique had taken one the bows out of her hair and was trying to tie it onto the Professors.

"Antique! I'm sorry but I'm busy here!"

Ren began working at the main keyboard, the screen scrolling up symbols, data and calculations. Neo stood by the table again, the connection cables attached to the back of her neck. Antique played with her wood blocks and then a large plastic toy car. She pushed it towards Neo who stooped, turned it and pushed it back. Antique returned it across the floor to Neo and then bored, walked off. Neo picked the car up and looked at it.

"I wonder, Maestro Ren, why you let that useless robot stay with you?"

Ren continued to study the monitor.

"Your structure is complex and intricate but there's not a single thing in you that isn't necessary. The design and construction is so economical. You're so perfect, so beautiful, it almost gives me goosebumps. Ah… and Antique," he hugged her as she wandered past, "She was once state of the art too. But her systems have deteriorated over the years. She was much better when she was new."

"You really cherish that clunky old android don't you?" Neo asked him, with a fearful expression on her face. At this stage of the play Maho had to begin introducing emotion into her character. The android was changing, learning new things.

"Huh? Oh… yeah… I do. She's… like a daughter to me."

Neo looked very surprised at this and at the same time unhappy.

The scene ended there with another blackout. The lights came up a few moments later with Ren again at the monitor keyboard and Neo stood near him. Antique was sat with her back to the cryogenic bed, looking as though switched off.

"Today I'd like to study what makes up your structure," Ren said, "I want to understand how you are so strong. I want to study your adaptability to the environment and your developmental capabilities. I want to study your creativity too – your ability to create original thought and original works."

Neo looked pensive throughout this and then the set lights went off and a spot fell only on Neo.

"I am a machine. The top of my evolutionary tree. I have the highest performance of any android on earth. There is nothing I cannot do. Nothing I cannot understand. But now… I am suffering. I was never given anything, was never thought of as anything other than a thing, an object, a tool. No… I have superior capabilities. I know how useful I can be. And if I am useful then I am sure that one day I can be…"

The spot faded and the set lights came up. I entered from stage right.

"Your coffee Ren," I gave him the cup and gave Neo a cold stare.

"Thanks. Today, Neo, I'd like to take samples from your body structure."

"Yes, sir… Professor?"

"Yes?"

"One day, will you give me the answers to my questions?"

Ren smiled, "Of course. One day."

Antique wearing a red face got up and stumbled against the bed then the table, then knocked a chair over. At first the audience laughed at her clumsiness.

"What's wrong, Antique?" Ren asked.

"My head is rattling and it feels warm."

Ren got up and went to the front of stage where Antique was walking in small circles. He put his hand on her forehead.

"She's hot. Neo Model, I have to cancel the tests today and run a diagnostic check on Antique."

"Yes sir."

Ren guided Antique to stage left where we had the examination couch set up. Antique climbed up and lay back. Ren connected two cables from the back of her neck (actually Yukino simply tucked them under Tsubasa's shoulders) and ran these to a cupboard near the couch. He then went to sit at the keyboard. The big monitor screen showed analytical checking symbols. In one corner of the screen was a video image of Antique, looking directly down at her as though from a ceiling camera. We'd been clever here and previously shot video footage of Tsubasa and ran this in a loop, we hadn't got the ability to set up a live camera and wire the signal to the monitor and have that display alongside the tape of the calculation symbols, but this worked well enough and was a lot easier. We just hoped Tsubasa wouldn't move too much.

Ren watched the screen for a while. I sat at the table and drank coffee as well.

"This is frustrating. I can't find the problem. Why not?"

"She is deteriorating," Neo said, "She has done well to function this long without an extensive overhaul, but if you like, Maestro, I can help you build a new android…"

"No!" Ren shouted at Neo, "Nothing can replace Antique!"

Neo walked across to Antique and studied her for a moment then returned to the monitor and looked at the screen.

"There," she said.

Ren pressed a key and the scrolling screen froze.

"There is a subtle disorder in her secondary processor flow system. Here."

"What is it?"

"There is a single small defect that down-rates the signal across her entire network. It is causing the transmissions within her circuitry to be misread. She was automatically correcting for it before, but now she is aging, the errors are starting to stand out."

"It's incredible that you noticed such a small defect."

"A human would not see it. The malfunction is a matter of a single digit error in a long calculation of thousands of routines. It is the kind of fault an android can detect easily. The error might be like a normal person simply adjusting their behaviour if they had a headache, for example. It bothers them, but they ignore it and carry on."

"What can I do to correct it? I'm not sure I can fix it with the limited equipment I have in this lab."

"I will do it."

"You can correct it?"

"Yes, with your guidance on her construction and systems, I can fix her."

Neo started work and the lights faded to end the scene.

Moments later they came up again with Ren hugging Antique in the centre of the stage.

"Antique!"

"Master Ren! I'm hungry!"

"Thank you, Neo Model. I'm glad you were here to save her. And you make delicious food too."

A spotlight lit up Neo brightly. She looked awkward, embarrassed even, turned and walked to the main monitor. She picked up the diagnostic connection cables.

"Shall we continue Maestro Ren?"

Ren stood centre stage, awestruck.

"I just realized. A machine I created has evolved far beyond human capabilities."

Ren then continued work, wiring Neo up to the computer. The Professor sat and worked at the keyboard. I sat at the table throughout, looking miserable.

"This is the structural diagram of your quasi-genes. This is the DNA breakdown of your circulatory fluids within your temperature control membrane. And this is the analytical data."

"Still looks like a clever pencil sharpener to me," I spat, "You're becoming obsessed with her. Have you fallen in love with this cold ugly lump of metal already?"

Ren looked at me sharply, "Neo Model?"

"Yes?"

"I'm tired. I'd like to skip the rest of the experiments for today. Why don't we have a nice relaxing meal together?"

Neo's face lit up with surprise.

"Yes, sir."

I stood up.

"Finally, something I can do. And this time, Ren, _I'm_ doing it."

Ren and Neo took their places at the table. I served the meal. Antique went and sat stage left playing with her blocks and car.

"I am honoured," Neo said, "I am happy that you, the legendary Professor Crawford, lets me be with you to talk like this."

A spotlight fell on Ren, the rest of the set becoming dark again.

"I wonder… I wonder…?" He said, looking up thoughtfully, "I can't understand half of what Neo Model says. I should've realized that one day androids would surpass humans. Neo Model puts me up on a pedestal but I've started to hate myself. I'm afraid that with her knowledge I could learn something I shouldn't. What kind of genius am I?"

A sound effect cut in, faintly at first then rising in volume. It was children laughing. At first it was a happy, summery sound but then it began to take on a taunting, teasing edge and some phrases came over it. "Did you see his clothes?" "They're so ragged and the sleeves are way too long for him." "He's poor!" "Have you seen his house? It doesn't even have a security system!" "What?" "Don't play with him." "And his grades are bad." Ha-ha, ha-ha…"

Ren's head dropped down and he stared at his hands in his lap. The set lights came up.

"I will clear this away," I said, standing up, "And then, Ren, shall I run you a bath? And if you like I can scrub your back?"

He ignored me, his head in his hands.

I ran a hand across his shoulders then cleared the table and exited stage right.

"Professor?" Neo asked.

"Uh, sorry, it's nothing."

Neo rose and walked off stage left. Ren took a chair from behind the table and placed it stage centre front and sat down. Again the set lights went down to blackness and a spotlight came on Ren.

"Every time Neo Model looks at me with those all-knowing eyes. It brings back… a past I can't forget. And mistakes made that I can't take back."

Antique brought a tray with a coffee mug on. He took the tray and swung around, putting it on the table. Suddenly he turned back to Antique and hugged her fiercely.

"I wonder… is this my punishment Rosemarie…?

Two more spotlights came on, one on me, stage right, a third on Neo, stage left. We both stood, arms at our sides facing the audience.

"Why?" Neo said, "Why doesn't the Professor open his heart up to me like he does with Antique? I'm the one with the highest intelligence."

She looked up, a light of understanding dawned on her face.

"I finally understand. Being perfect will not make people love you. The more perfect you are, the more you become nothing more than a "machine", a "piece of art", someone unapproachable, an unattainable ideal that none feels they can come close to…"

"He saved me," I said, "I would have become a vegetable after my accident. He not only saved me and gave me life, gave me a quality of life I had never before experienced. But I loved him. I became a hopeless victim of his charm, his energy, his smile, his skill, his ability to entrap me with his kindness. I loved him. I still do. Yet now, he is changing. Since this android arrived here a few days ago Ren seems to be falling under her spell. Why? When he and I were so close does he seem to be so engaged with a mere machine?"

"I thought being a genius would make me happy," Ren said.

"I thought being the best would make me happy," Added Neo.

"I thought being in love would make me happy," I concluded.

We all spoke together.

"I thought that as long as I had that, nothing could touch me. Then why does it hurt so much?"

The lights went down. We did a scene change. I had to find Rika quickly.

"Have you a tissue?"

"Yes, here. Are you alright?"

"Crying. Gomen. Emotional."

"Aya's play?"

"Hm, a bit, but me too, just me. There, I'm better now. Arigato."

I had finally got it. Aya must have got it long ago but had kept it to herself. But by this play she was telling us. I don't know if the audience would get it, perhaps a few individuals might. I wondered if Arima was watching this. If he was then I felt sure he was getting it, about the perfect person trying to be accepted by doing everything right but instead that perfection merely caused a barrier to go up between the perfect person and those he wanted to have come close to him.

And me, me of course.

I'd thought that being in love and being loved would make me happy.

But then, just as I'd found out Maho had a boyfriend who had taken her away from me, I'd been so hurt by love. Love between the one I loved and another taking her away from me. So was love what I wanted?

Was it?

Or would I settle for friendship?

Could I do that? Be content with her around me near me, talking and sharing things but no more than that?

We only had a few seconds between scene changes, I had no time to go off on an emotional day dream. And now it was my scene.

Antique wasn't needed in the next scene. But Tsubasa was, her second role. She went off to change.

Yukino moved the chair back and sat at the table facing the audience. The set lights came up. I went on stage right and stood beside Ren. He looked up at me.

"She needs to leave."

"Who? Neo Model?"

"Yes. I can't bear having her around a minute longer."

"Sigh, she's just a machine."

"You know that's not true. You know that as well as a machine she's capable of much more. Every human function. Apart from conceive a child she can do anything a human woman can. We both know this is more than a scientific study."

Ren stood up.

"Sigh, what are you saying? You've completely misunderstood. I don't see her as a companion at all. I'm simply stunned at how advanced she is. I'm thirsty to learn. That's all."

"I don't believe you. You can live forever with cryogenic stasis. So can Neo, with her ability of self diagnosis and auto repair she's almost immortal."

"Immortality is a dream for living things. Machines can't be immortal!"

"And don't I know that! I cannot! The Cyborg Reconstruction Law prohibits me from being maintained other than essential medical organ replacement. Ren, if you hadn't noticed my brain is digital and my heart… my heart is mechanical. Although some days it doesn't feel like it…"

"I can maintain you Sigh. Earth's laws don't apply here."

"This place has no facility to maintain my mechanical parts. You've admitted that already. I can only continue to live here if Neo agrees to repair me."

"She will, she's an android. Her purpose is to assist humans. If I ask her to she'll maintain you. For ever if necessary."

"Why do I doubt you? Why do I feel as though you're saying those things only so that you don't hurt me and not for any other reason?"

"What other reason?"

"I had hoped. That you loved me."

I stared at the floor, Ren did too. The tear than ran down my cheek and dripped and struck the table top was only partly acting. Ren put a finger under my chin and lifted it.

"One day I was driving my car. I stopped in a queue of traffic. There had been an accident. I got out and walked alongside the line of cars. My mind was turning over a research project that I'd been struggling with for many weeks. When I reached the front of the queue of vehicles it was you I found there. What was left of you was being cut out of a crushed vehicle. I saw what had happened to you, saw your ruined body. I don't know what it was that made me follow the ambulance and make calls to the development lab and to our lawyers and to the hospital's trustee board. But I did. I worked right from that moment to save you. Once the hospital declared that your injuries were too severe for normal prosthetics to enable you to live a life that would be close to normal I arranged for you to be transferred to my care. You were conscious part of the time and your lawyer spoke with you. You signed the consent forms. I got to work.

"It was your face, Sigh, the face I saw that day at the roadside. A face so in pain yet a face so beautiful. I did what I could for you. Maybe I didn't love you, maybe I have never loved you but the emotion I felt for you I poured into my work. I gave you what I could. The person you are now is the best I could do. But I never loved you. You see, it was science again. Scientific experiment. In crude terms a research project. I did my best.

"I'm sorry it wasn't enough."

His fingers left me and he turned away. Silently I folded at the knees and collapsed to the floor.

He turned around, bent over me.

"Neo Model! Here! I need your help!"

The set was darkened. Another scene change. I went over to the examination table and lay on it. Neo came to stand by me. She wore data cables connected from her neck to mine. Ren sat before the computer at the keyboard.

The lights came up. Ren was working. The screen showed my image in a lower corner, the same technique we'd used for Tsubasa's face. Data scrolled up the screen. After a few moments Ren hit a few keys. The scrolling data paused.

"Maestro Ren, there's something wrong with the number four computer."

"Really? How can you detect that?"

"My interface is linked via Sigh's to the mainframe. The diagnostic I'm running is showing erratic responses. From Sigh's emotional databank as well as the number four computer."

"Hm. This thing is old too. It needs maintenance as well."

Ren worked at the keyboard for a few more moments and seeming puzzled, he turned to Neo.

"Ah, wait. Perhaps you could help me with this."

"As you wish. I will run a remote connection from here."

Neo stared down at me and was silent for a while. I was happy to stare up at Maho's face. On the monitor data and graphics rapidly changed and flashed and scrolled, much faster than when Ren had been typing.

"Too many processes are using this one inductional link here," Neo said, "This is causing a data blockage between computers four and three. You are suffering data loss as well as impaired performance. The issue is that the remedial executables we are running to fix Sigh are being affected too. I have the capability to repair it but this condition has been in place for eighty years and there is a corresponding amount of damage. How that has affected the executables, how much corruption there is I cannot determine yet. With your permission I will make copies of my own repair cells and perform a transplant. However there is a possibility of rejection. What is your opinion Maestro Ren?"

Ren sat there, watching her and looking worried.

"Uh, yeah, yes. That sounds good to me. Please do that."

The set darkened and a spotlight came on Ren, our normal means of freezing action and depicting thoughts. Ren hung his head.

"I understand now. I should swallow my pride and tell her I don't understand what she says. It's better that way besides, I don't have to worry about an android making fun of a human. When I look into Neo Model's eyes and see the deep contempt inside them it's only because my own weak nature expects it to be there. It would be there in mine if I were she. I have contempt in my own heart. Because the past that I can't forget has come back to haunt me. From inside those perfect camera eyes, the past reaches out and traps me."

The children's mocking laughter came over the PA system again, then voices. "Oh, no, it's that poor kid!" "Don't get close, or you'll get stupid too!" "What a dumb loser!"

"Stop it! Stop it!" Ren stood up, fists clenched. Unfortunately being 'out of it' on the examination table I couldn't see it, but Rika told me Yukino put on the most agonized face as she wailed at the audience. She said it was stunning, shocking even. "We can play together! I'll play anything you want!", Ren ranted.

The mocking voice over continued.

"Yeah, right, as if we'd want to play with you, loser!"

Under the spotlight Ren squatted down, hugged his knees and made himself very small.

"Why am I so stupid? I wish I was smart. I would become rich and have lots of friends."

A spotlight came on, stage right. Rosemarie stood there. Tsubasa had changed into a young woman. A black velvet hair band, a black top, a long pale green flower pattern skirt and green sandals. She walked to Ren and looked pityingly down at him. He saw her dress come into his line of vision and he looked up.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Rosemarie."

Yukino's voice over the PA:

"Rosemarie was as beautiful as a crimson flower."

"Rosemarie, will you be my friend?" Ren asked.

"I always see you by yourself," she replied, "I'm competitive, so I have a hard time making friends with other girls. And the boys only try to flirt with me, so I'm always alone. You and I… we're the same."

Ren stood up and took her hand. Yukino's voice came over the PA.

"The time we spent together… spring, summer, autumn…"

"Rose, let's stay together forever! Will you stay with me for the rest of our lives?"

"I think we're great for each other, Ren."

"Really? Then promise. I'll even study hard, if it's for you. Promise me Rose! Promise…"

Her voice over again…

"But shortly after that… I saw Rosemarie walking with a guy I didn't know."

Rosemarie walked across the stage, the spotlight staying on her. She reached Maho and looked up at her. Maho held out her arm and Rosemarie took it. In her black suit Maho did look like a man.

The lights dimmed, another scene change.

I sat at the table, resting my head in my hands. Ren was at the computer, Neo standing by him.

"I have restarted her main systems but she will take a while to become fully self aware again. Leave her be for a while."

"I understand Neo Model," Ren sat up, looking at Neo and looking tired too, "There's something else."

"Yes, Maestro Ren?"

"You can stop calling me that. And I want you to go back to earth."

Neo's eyes widened, she looked shocked.

"Why, is there something I am doing wrong?"

"No, not at all. It's such a waste for a superior android like you to be in a place like this. You should be on earth where you can be so much more useful to many more people."

Neo's face took on a mask of fear.

"But I cannot just leave like this. You still have not answered my questions… and…"

Ren stared at her.

"…you're becoming unstable," Neo continued, "I have not told you that I noticed. At least let me check your temperature and…"

Neo drew off one of her grey gloves and reached her hand out to touch Ren's forehead. He smacked the hand aside.

"Don't touch me! What do you think you're doing? Do you intend to go sniffing around inside my head and analyzing me right down to my genes?!"

"I cannot leave you in this condition."

"Who said you could go poking around inside me? Go home! Robots don't have the ability to go poking about inside people's hearts! Just GO HOME!"

Multiple spotlights came on all focusing on Neo who was bathed in bright light. She clutched her hands to her head and sank down to her knees.

I stood, moved unsteadily around the table and collapsed to the floor.

"I DON'T WANT YOU!" Ren screamed at Neo.

All the lights went out and for a few seconds there was pitch black and silence.

"Uh…" Ren's voice, confused came in the darkness, "What happened?"

The main monitor came online showing static, white noise. The set lights came up a little, in the gloom Ren moved over to where I lay.

"Uh…Sigh!"

"I am sorry," Neo said, "There was a strong rejection in her nervous system. There was also a sympathetic reaction in her main computer and it shut down."

Ren put a hand on my forehead. Then he stood up and turned to Neo.

"You're showing… you're showing remorse. How can that be? Remorse is… an emotion."

"I am sorry," Neo said again.

Ren lifted a palm to her cheek and stroked it.

"So," Ren said, grasping this new thing, "So even androids can understand what it's like to deny yourself something. And besides, you're the descendant of the androids that I worked so hard to create."

He looked away.

"I shouldn't have said that…"

"What are you hiding about your past?" Neo asked him, "You do not have to tell me. But if I can help in any way, I will. It is what I am for, after all."

Ren let his hand caress her check again then let it fall. He turned away. He laughed, a strained, demented sound it was.

"It's not a big secret. If you knew the real me I'm sure even you would hate me."

I lay there on the floor listening to Yukino's lines. There was something about them that dug into me and hurt me. Aya had written this, maybe it wasn't about us, maybe it was about her. Maho was hurting. Her life now, her relationships with her boyfriend and her mother. They were uncertain and painful.

Yukino. She was facing a crisis with Arima.

Arima. God only knows what demons he held deep down inside.

Asapin. His father…

Tsubasa and her father…

Tonami, and his obsession with Tsubaki…

And me…

Of course me, and my past.

I lay there and the thought struck me.

Isn't there anyone who doesn't hurt? Who doesn't have an aching weight inside dragging them down? Are we all like this? Everyone in school, everyone in Japan? Everyone in the world? Why do people hurt and ache and suffer and hate and struggle? Why? Why can't we be honest and happy and carefree and love each other?

"I would never hate you, Professor Ren. I cannot hate a person."

Ren laughed. This time he sounded even more demented.

"It's all right. I can't escape from the past. No matter what kind of fake image I try to create of myself inside. I'm always afraid. Even though I know the real me everyone else only knows the me you see now. A me I present to the world. A mask. An act. I'm an actor, playing at being a real person. I'm a fake. People would never love me for who I am. Who could possibly love the real me?! Nobody! NOBODY!"

And he began to laugh, his insane cackles rising to a feverish level.

"Professor Ren. Professor Ren! PROFESSOR!" Neo's hand came onto his arm, "All is not lost. Let me run another check on Sigh, and… while the computer is running the tests… tell me. Tell me what happened."

Ren stood facing the audience. He closed his eyes and hung his head. For a moment there was silence. Then he looked up, a new and resigned expression on his face.

"All right. I suppose it would be alright to tell you. Let me tell you, Neo, about my past…"

And the curtain descended on the end of act one.

- - - oOo - - -

I lay there staring at the lighting rigs above me. For a moment I couldn't move, couldn't even think straight. I listened. People on stage moved. Beyond the curtain a murmur began and then it rose into a hubbub, a noise of many conversations. I tried to hear snippets but could make out only a few and these seemed to consist mostly of 'ahs', 'wows', 'wasn't that amazings', and 'isn't Yukino incredibles'.

I closed my eyes. It was quite comfortable here.

"Gonna stay there all day?" she asked me.

I opened my eyes, Maho was squatting beside me.

"I don't think I've ever told you how good you look…"

She frowned, looked worried.

"…as a robot." I smiled at her and she grinned back.

"Let's get you up," she said, "And I'm starving. You wanna eat?"

"Not sure. My stomach's still doing those funny twisty turny things."

"Well I'm gonna go down to the drinks area and grab a sandwich from one of the machines. Come have an iced tea with me."

"Alright, just gotta get out of this thing."

"Nah, go like that. I'm not going to get changed, seems a waste of effort to just put it all on again in two and a half hours."

"I can't walk round the school like this, with half my chest hanging out!"

"Course you can. You just stood there in front of over five hundred people and did it, and anyway, you look great."

"Don't. You're embarrassing me. It's okay for you, you look like some weird sci-fi loving stock broker from the city."

"Hey, don't mock. You look like half a foil wrapped fish cake."

"Thank you so much. I love you too."

"Come on, let's eat."

- - - oOo - - -

_23 – 31 July 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Eight, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	59. Steel Snow, Act Two

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Fifty Nine – Steel Snow, Act Two **

"_Let's just accept reality. The only person I really need by me is you.__"_

- Ikari Keiichi,_ Paranoia Agent, Episode 13  
_  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We were swamped. As soon as we left the hall and went towards the drink machine area girls flocked around us cooing and fawning and gushing. It felt strange. I'd never been the centre of attention before.

"Oh, wow, guys, great play!"

"Maho-san, you were awesome!"

"Fantastic costumes."

"Sakana-san, you look amazing!"

"That was some serious acting."

"Ah, Mahorin," I touched her arm, "I might just go back… wait in the hall."

"No way!" she said, a glint in her eye, "I used to be popular in middle school, its no sweat. C'mon, I'll get you a cold drink, that'll help."

"Uh…"

We went down the corridor and the stairs having to almost push our way through the flocks of fangirls. _Where are the guys?_ I thought, _or maybe they like to play it cool and don't do that kind if thing? Or maybe, with me, they know I'm not interested?_

At the drinks area it was worse. A lot of people were hanging out there anyway since it was warm weather. I half expected to get asked to start signing autographs.

"Maho, I can't handle this. Gomen."

"Well, whatever, if you want to go back, I'll go find Takashi."

"Oh, sure, if you want to hang out with him for a couple of hours, I'll go sit somewhere quietly and chill out."

"Hey," she caught my arm as I stood up, "take care. I'll catch you later. And remember, it's your big scene in act two."

"Yeah, don't I know. Okay, see you later."

- - - oOo - - -

Mission Control.

Empty apart from me.

Silence, a closed door separating me from the world.

The curtains drawn. The sun of a late summer afternoon falling upon them and within the small meeting room, gloom. And peace. And being alone.

I sat at a desk, my head in my hands.

_This _was what I needed.

Clamouring crowds were not my scene. And having them clamouring around me was worse.

I hated it.

How people like Yukino actually _feed _off that kind of thing, God only knows.

There was a clock in Mission Control. It told me I had ninety minutes before I needed to make my way back to the hall.

Ninety minutes of peace.

I lay my head down and closed my eyes…

- - - oOo - - -

"What happened to you in the past?"

"I'll tell you. Let me tell you my whole story."

Neo and Ren were on stage in front of the drawn curtain, spotlights on them, the rest of the hall dark. Act two had begun.

Neo's spotlight was extinguished and she walked off. Behind Ren the curtain rose. Our main set change had been done during the break. The table remained in the middle of the set but was now covered by a lacy tablecloth. The cryogenic sleeping cabinet had been removed and a European bed took its place. The bookcases had been moved sideways so only part of them showed behind the bed, stage right, the monitor section being hidden. A dummy window was on the wall where the bookcases had been. The radio and comms desk had gone. At stage left the lab area with its examination table and cupboard now looked like a kitchen area, we'd faked a set of taps so it looked like a sink was there.

An ordinary European apartment.

As the curtain lifted, Rosemarie was revealed sitting at the table.

Ren walked over to her.

"Rose, where were you yesterday? You keep forgetting when we're supposed to be together. I waited for hours. It's not like we can play together forever. But Rose, I always see you with another guy…"

She looked up at him, her face hard.

"You have something to say?"

"I'm scared that you're changing. Hey, why don't we go back to the way we used to be? We can go by the river and pick flowers…"

"Huh!" Rose sounded bored, "that's stupid! I'm not interested in that kid's play anymore. And just looking at your naïve face makes me sick. I've grown now. I'm beautiful. I can have any man I want. I want it all. You can go on living in your own little world."

"But you said we'd always be together!"

Rose got up from her chair and walked to the window. Her shoulders began to shake. She turned to face Ren and the audience. She was laughing.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ah… You actually believed that? Let's put an end to this game of house shall we? I can't ever love you. You could never give me what I want. I don't want to see you again. Don't ever show your face to me again!"

She stormed off through the kitchen, a sound effect of a door slamming.

"Right after that," Ren spoke to the floor, "she left town. It wasn't a game of house to me… Rose, it wasn't. I thought you were the only one who understood me. But you were just like everyone else. In the end you laughed at me just like they did… Teased me for being stupid… Why can't I be smarter? Then nobody would laugh at me or make fun of me… DAMMIT!"

A voice over… Yukino's.

"Several years went by."

Ren went over to the kitchen area and from a drawer pulled out a circuit board and an electronic soldering iron. He stood at the workbench and worked at it. Neo came on set but wearing a black hat and carrying a black stick and a rolled up set of blueprints under her arm.

She whacked the stick across Ren's shoulders.

"Idiot! Don't do it like that! I only gave an idiot like you a job because I felt sorry for you! So no goofing off! And you'd better not make any more mistakes!"

"Yes… Yes, sir." Ren stammered.

The boss walked off set.

Ren put down the work and returned to the table. He sat quietly for a moment. There came a knock at the door. He went to it and opened it. The sound effect of a wind blowing filled the hall and leaves were gusted into the room along with a spray of rainwater. A small black cloaked figure staggered into the kitchen and fell against Ren. The cloak was torn and filthy, the figure's hair tangled.

"Rose. What do you want?"

"Hm… I suppose I can't expect you to be happy to see me again. I have nowhere else to go. I thought about it, but… you were the only person I could think of to go to. I came… to give you this."

Rose sank down exhausted to her knees, holding up a small bundle.

"You were always so kind, so forgiving. Such a… a good person. I'm sure you'll raise her well. It's too late for me. But in this child I will stay by your side."

Rose collapsed lifeless on the floor.

"Rose!"

Ren, holding the small wrapped up baby knelt by Rose's side.

And wept.

He went to the bed and placed the baby in it, tucking her in gently, then returned to the fallen Rose and picking her up in his arms carried her body off the set. He returned carrying a bottle of baby milk and took a chair and sat by the bedside, feeding the baby. The sound of the storm continued.

Ren then picked up the child and left the set.

Yukino's voice over came again:

"I called the child Mei. Over ten years passed."

A girl in a white flowing flowery dress ran into the room from a door at stage right. She ran around the room in circles giggling and yelling for joy. Tsubasa's third character. She'd changed while Ren was doing his work scene and had worn the muddy cloak over her Mei dress. Ren came in and the girl ran to him and hugged him.

"Father!"

"Mei!"

"Father I baked a cake for you. Do you know what day it is?"

"Yes, it's twelve years since you came, Mei! Do you really like it here? Your daddy's not very smart. We're poor and everybody laughs at you."

"Hm, if they want to say something, just let them. And besides, you're not stupid at all, even though I'm not your real daughter, you took me into your home. I don't think there's any other child happier than me."

Yukino's voice over again:

"Rose was like a beautiful crimson flower. But Mei, Mei was white. As pure as the snow and just as beautiful. She was a lovely white flower. And I loved her like no other."

I stood in the wings watching this and listening.

Throughout it all tears never seemed to be far from my eyes. Whether the characters were happy or sad it seemed to hold onto my heart and pull at it.

A movement beside me. Maho was there. I looked at her, her enchanting profile, her clear dark calm eyes, the prettiest button nose I'd ever seen. She turned to me.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing," I looked back on set.

A few moments later I glanced at her again. She was watching Yukino bring Ren Crawford to life on the stage, a product of Aya's mind and heart yet somehow a product of my mind and heart also.

"She can't half act," I said quietly.

"We knew that," Maho nodded, "I can too. I think. Would you like to see?"

She turned to me and I didn't understand what she was saying. Then something touched my hand, warm fingers came gently around mine and held it.

She gave me a small smile, although she looked unsure.

"Mahorin?"

"Shush," she said, "Watch the play."

"Don't act. I don't want you to act."

"Alright, I'll try not to."

Her hand dropped away again.

And left me reeling.

What?

What was that?

On stage:

"Mei, I'm so busy at work," Ren sat with Mei at the table, "It looks like I won't be able to help you with your homework."

They moved to the kitchen and there came the sound of pots and pans clattering, cupboard doors slamming. The two of them bustled around for a few moments.

"Oh, no!" Ren exclaimed, "The chou la crème's exploded!"

A ballet tune came over the PA system and the two of them pirouetted around the room.

"Father! You mustn't step on my toes. Help me with dance practice but don't cripple me!"

Mei got into bed and Ren sat at the chair by her bedside.

"Read me a story," the girl asked.

"Aren't you too old for that?" Ren replied.

The two of them became still and the PA system spoke with Yukino's voice once more. I couldn't help but be impressed how Aya had represented the passing of time in this relationship.

"For those first twelve years I was very happy. But then… I began wondering about what would happen if Mei found out that I'm not going to let anyone take her away from me. What would she think of me then?"

Mei got out of bed and skipped around the room.

"Father, one of my friends is having a birthday party at her home. Can I go?"

"Will there be boys there too?" Ren asked.

"Oh yes."

"Then you can't go. I won't let you. You're a beautiful little girl. All of the boys there will fall in love with you and I don't want that. I don't want one of them to take you away from me. I… I love you!"

Mei giggled like a summer shower.

"I love you too Papa. You took me in and raised me like your own, so I will always love you!"

The set darkened and a spotlight illuminated Ren.

"So… now I know. Mei doesn't really love me either. My mom, my dad… my classmates… none of them loved me. Falling and falling… falling and falling… Snow is falling in my heart."

The set lights came up. Ren turned, grabbed a chair and hurled it across the set.

"Why do you only talk about school?" he screamed at Mei, who cowered back, "Is it really so much better out there than with me?"

"No," Mei looked fearful, "I didn't mean it like that! I just wanted to share my interesting day with you."

"And being home isn't fun?" Ren went down on his knees and hugged his arms around his own chest, "Everybody out there is laughing at you for being poor and having a stupid father aren't they? Who would want to live in a terrible cheap house like this?"

The girl came to him and shook his shoulders.

"Stop it! I didn't say that!"

He swung an arm and pushed her aside. She stumbled but steadied herself and stepped back. Maho walked onto the stage and Mei backed up against her. Maho, acting as a man placed a hand on Mei's shoulder.

Ren looked at him, his eyes wide with madness, an awful burning light of fear was in his face.

"Mei…" he stood up and reached for an axe leaning up against the wall under the window, "I will never…" he said, his face set in a grimace of hate, "I will never forgive anyone who takes Mei away from me!"

He strode upon the man, swung the axe. Mei stepped in front of the tall man in black and the axe struck the girl's chest. She screamed and collapsed to the floor, the man in the black suit withdrew from the set.

Ren dropped the axe. Even though it was a harmless plastic stage prop the sound effect Aya played as it fell, a loud metallic clunk was a chilling sound. Ren stood over the wounded Mei.

"You… you stepped in front of him. Do you love him, this other man, that much?"

"No," Mei looked up. The bag of fake blood taped to her chest had burst when she punched her own hand against herself, and it coloured her front in an ominous spreading stain. Ren sank down on his knees in front of her, "I just didn't want you to hurt anyone. I just wanted to talk to you, to try to find a way to get you back to the way you used to be. Believe me… I really do love you, papa. Please… believe me…"

Ren reached forward and picked up the dying girl in his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her in it, drawing the covers up to her neck.

"I felt a strange sense of relief," he spoke to himself, his eyes wide with madness, "She can't go outside any more, wounded like that. And no man would want a disfigured girl like her. Mei was now mine. Forever!"

The grinning Ren threw back his head and laughed.

Maho entered from the set from stage right, through the door beside the bed. She had removed her black jacket and wore the white lab coat. She held a clip board.

She lay a hand on Mei's forehead.

"I have done all I can for her. She is comfortable, but…"

"Mei," Ren came over and knelt at the bedside.

"Please don't cry for me," the girl said, reaching up a hand and stroking her father's cheek.

I looked at Yukino. She was actually crying.

"I finally understand," Ren said, "I loved you. You were changing. From a child into a woman. And just like a little kid… I wanted to protect you." Ren reached for the girl's hand and took it from his own face, holding it in his hand, "Because you loved me so much… I never stopped to consider how much I loved you."

"I never wished I was anyone else's daughter," Mei said, her voice unsteady now, and weak.

I turned away. It was only a school play, dammit, but I couldn't watch it. My heart was in my mouth. Memories of my dying mother came back to me. I bit my hand to stop the sobs from coming. Damn, you Aya, how can you have seen how this would affect me? Behind me Mei spoke her last line.

"I loved you. And only you."

I was glad I was standing in the left wings and Maho…

Well, glad Maho wasn't there.

Glad she was still in her doctor's lab coat somewhere off stage right.

I would have probably done something completely stupid and embarrassing like hold onto her and burst into tears. Rika was near me, the script open, she was following the lines. It didn't look like Yukino needed any prompting. She was well into her character now. I looked at her and she at me. She held out a tissue. I took it and turned away.

"Gomen," I mumbled.

"MEI!" Ren's anguished cry rent the whole auditorium.

As the sound of the heartbroken Ren Crawford crying at the bedside of Rose's dead daughter filled the hall, music began to play. It was Carl Orff. "O Fortuna" from the opera "Carmina Burana."

It began with a clash of symbols timed to coincide with Ren's shout. Then behind the music there came another sound. Over the PA system as the gentle voices swelled and filled the place with building sound, the place also filled with the noise of water, a river rushing over stones, the sound of a small river. As the timpani drums thundered in Ren stood, went to the table and climbed on it.

He held out his raised palms to heaven.

"I… I LET MEI DIE! I finally found someone who believed in me, but now…! WHY COULDN'T I SEE THE TRUTH? WHY WAS I BORN WITH SUCH A STUPID, STUPID MIND? AND SUCH A BLACK, BLACK HEART?

"Mei… my sweet darling… I can't go on living without you… I'm going to end it too!"

He leapt from the table and as Yukino hit the stage and crumpled the set lights went down and Puccini's Gianni Schicchi "O Mio Babbino Caro" (O My Beautiful Father) played again.

In the blackness before the music grew in volume and drowned the voice out, we heard Yukino speaking over the PA.

"A hateful life… first oppresses… and then soothes… fate, monstrous and empty, you turning wheel… you are malevolent: well-being is in vain… and always fades to nothing… so at this hour without delay… pluck the vibrating strings… since fate strikes down the string man, everyone weep with me!"

The music faded, the hall was in complete darkness.

I felt terrible, a hard hot aching lump inside me telling me to cry.

I couldn't. For one my make up would be ruined and secondly people would hear me. Even so, among the audience there seemed to be a few sniffles going on.

- - - oOo - - -

We allowed the darkness to continue while we did the fastest set change, restoring the stage to the first set, Ren Crawford's hidden Jupiter-moon home.

The lights came up. I was sat at the table, Neo standing behind me, her hand on my shoulder. Ren was lying in the sleeping casket, the lid raised. He sat up and climbed out, he wore his white lab coat again. The casket lid hissed slowly closed. He stood centre stage.

"When I woke up my head was perfectly clear. My thoughts were organized and my mind calm as if I had felt nothing. After rigorous testing by several doctors it was determined that after I fell from the cliff and struck my head my IQ had increased enormously. A period of recuperation followed, of course the medical surgery was excellent even then, as good as it is now. But I came to realize that I was changed. I understood everything I saw and heard. I absorbed all this new information. I was like a sponge, I would sit quietly in places and soak up the world around me, understanding it all, wondering at it and building a new way of looking at it. It was as though I had been living in a cave for years and then waking up and walking outside and it was spring. The sun was shining and warm on my face, around me were living and growing things and everything was beautiful. And for the first time I understood what the world was really like.

"I played around a little with micro-engineering, nano-technology and digital awareness interface systems. Before I really grasped what I was doing I was building my first robots. Then I developed them and was able to increase their productivity on many levels."

A man's voice came over the PA system, it was Aya's father again:

"Very impressive, Crawford. We're lucky to have you on our team. We're promoting you to technical director."

"I continued development of my ideas now with a team of competent technicians under me and a wealth of computer and laboratory resources at my command. I invented and then developed my first self-awareness entities and neural progression baths. I unlocked the key to non-human intelligence. An intelligence that not only understood and could respond to the changing world around it, but would learn. Really properly take in it's own experiences and formulate new responses of it's own. A true intelligence that wasn't human. That had _personality_.

Aya's father: "Crawford. You've been called to headquarters. From now on, you'll be the person who moves this company forward in the field of robotics and AI."

"I remember the day well," Ren said, "our team had completed our first humanoid compatible design: the machine looked like a young man. I named him Vincent. He had no physical ears you see, we had simply left that cosmetic feature out of the design. His long hair covered his temples anyway. We had released Vincent into a real-world assessment compound within the company's facility. He roamed for an hour around the base until our security systems reported a breach. I went outside only to find the robot had broken the 12-level digital sequencer code on the compound gate and gone outside into the public environment. Such a panic we had trying to track it down. But Vincent was fitted with a satellite tracking system and I located him within minutes.

"The robot was sat in a park quite close to where some children were playing. I went and sat next to him and asked him what he was doing. His reply: _thinking_. I asked him why he had gone outside the gate and again his reply: _I had learned all I could within the compound. I was bored._ As long as I live I'll never forget that day, it was my true breakthrough, a true triumph."

Aya's father: "Doctor Crawford. The government has it's eye on you. It looks like you'll finally be granted a remit to produce androids on a large scale. How about it? Will you accept?"

Ren stood up tall and straight and happy. A broad smile illuminated his face.

"Yes! Producing androids is my dream!"

Ren walked over to the cryogenic bed. We'd arranged the head of it to be against the wing of the stage and it had a false end. While Yukino had been doing this scene Tsubasa had changed, been cleaned up and slid into it unseen and was waiting.

Ren picked up a laptop from beside the casket and sat behind it. He typed a few instructions on the keyboard and the lid of the bed hissed slowly open again.

"I think I can do it now," he said, "In a small way, I think I can make up for the mistakes I made so many times in the past. I can't bring Rose back. I can't bring Mei back. But everyone loves and needs my androids. They help people, they make the world a better place for everyone. With this work accomplished I am satisfied. I am not happy, but I am satisfied."

He punched a final key and Antique sat up. She climbed jerkily out of the bed and faced her creator.

"Hello Master Crawford. It is nice to meet you."

And Tsubasa added on the end of that her most winning, most gorgeous smile. I could feel the emotion flowing around me in the audience.

Despite all my fears and worries and panic, it had been worth it for this. Now _this_ felt good. Very good. I was a part of something worthwhile.

Aya's father: "The successful production of the first large scale batch of androids had an impact on the entire world. That year the professor became the youngest person to be awarded the Nobel peace prize. One new model was followed by another. And the professor's life sped on at a dizzying pace. Discussions with the top levels of government, television appearances, parties, press conferences, and more money than he could ever spend."

A jumble of male voices broke over the narrators tones and during this the set was darkened and flashes of light were fired at Ren:

"No pushing! No pushing!" "What does it feel like to be the richest man in the world?" "No comment." "The professor isn't a movie star!" "Please give us a tour of your mansion!" "This is getting a little personal but is there a special woman in your life?"

The flashes stopped. Ren came and sat at the table. Neo and I remained stationary, like statues. Antique served Ren a drink.

"You seem tired Master," she said.

"I'm an important person now Antique. No one wanted to be my friend before. But now all of a sudden they all want to know me. When I was a child I used to think that if only I was smart, people would like me, love me."

A huge image of Rosemarie flashed up on the main monitor. A rattle of voices again:

"World exclusive!" "This is the model for the first successful production android!"

More camera flashes.

"Professor, what is your relationship to this young woman?" "You adopted this woman's daughter didn't you?" "Which one served as the model for the android?" "Our readers have the right to know the truth." "And didn't your intelligence used to be well below average?" "What happened that enabled you to go on to design these robots?" "The young genius professor Crawford climbed the ladder of success virtually overnight." "Many of his commercial opponents were ruined by the success of the Antique android." "Professor! The truth!" "What are you hiding?".

A series of newspaper headlines flashed on the monitor, interspersed with these were images of Ren, Rose and Mei:

GENIUS AND MADNESS.

UNCOVERING HIS HIDDEN PAST.

THE MYSTERY DEEPENS.

SHUNNED BY THE SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY?

UNETHICAL DEVELOPMENT METHODS STATES OUR EXPERT SOURCE.

ACCUSED!

ATTEMPTED MURDER?

ATTEMPTED SUICIDE!

Ren sat at the table, his hands clamped over his temples.

"And that wasn't all," he said.

CRIME.

ANDROID SPECIALIST REFUSES MILITARY CONTRACTS.

NOTHING BUT AN UNTHINKING MARIONETTE?

NEXT GENERATION FEMALE ANDROIDS TO HAVE SEX ORGANS?

"My creation had become tainted," Ren bowed his head, "It did not take long for the stories of sex-robots and unstoppable military robots to surface."

MORE DARK SECRETS.

UNLOVED YOUNG WOMAN?

"Professor, your inventions will become the downfall of mankind!" "Will you take responsibility for this?" "Major figures in the pornographic industry are said to have signed contracts with your company – can you deny this?"

Ren stood up, fist clenched and raised.

"SHUT UP! You're worse than me! You praise me and flatter me so much it's sick! But only for as long as it's convenient to you! As soon as you can no longer sell stories that praise me, you dig up lies and my private past to strike out at me! YOU DISGUST ME! It's easy for you who do not have the burden of the ethics of this to sit there on your high horses and say what's 'right'.

"Androids aren't evil. They are programmed never to hurt or destroy. It's impossible for them to become weapons! They have no feelings. They aren't whores. They are merely superior tools. You are the problem because you don't know how to use them! It's always the same! Science has grown and evolved but you monkeys never will! You'll never get beyond satisfying your worldly desires. Go back to your trees and your mindless jabbering!"

He sat down again.

"Why did it become like this? Even though I was a genius I never saw the corruption of men. Rose loved me – in her own way and for a short while – but she turned away and was corrupted. Mei loved me too. Mei loved me right to the end. But back then I couldn't realize how close I was to happiness. And now there's no-one left who understands."

I stood up. I moved smoothly, like a woman, sensuously, a complete contrast to Antique. I stood a little behind and to one side of Ren. I reached out and took his hand.

"I do. I understand you. I didn't understand life. I was a young woman just out of university. I had a degree, I was accepted for a research scholarship at a prestigious genetics corporation that was testing modified crops. My whole life was ahead of me. Success, happiness, a wonderful boyfriend. One day we went out to celebrate. He had a few drinks. And on the drive home…

"He died instantly. For months I wished I had. I became almost a vegetable, a cripple, mangled and ugly, my healthy strong young body ruined. My heart broken at the loss of my wonderful friend.

"And a young man saved me. He gave me back my sight, my hearing, even my senses of smell, taste and touch. I was given a wonderful body, strong and beautiful. I was given a new mind although the memories I could recall were selective. But I thank you for even those. Those parts of my past suffering you removed – I'm grateful for even that. And within this new body you gave me, you even gave me a heart. A heart that beat with life and wonder and thanks.

"Ren, a heart that beat with love. You might think your life has been filled with mistakes but my standing here is proof otherwise. Look at me. Look at this life you saved and made new. You should be proud.

"All that you have done on earth, the androids you designed, the ease they have given people. It's nothing compared to what you did for me. Just one person you'd never met until by chance our paths crossed. I don't understand why you did what you did, but I understand that you're a good person. You can love. You have loved. You…"

I let go of his hand and slowly folded down and collapsed silently to the floor. Ren spun around.

"Sigh? Sigh!"

Neo came close. She knelt beside me.

"Neo Model. What is it? What's wrong with her?"

"I do not know. Let me examine her."

Together they carried me to the examination table.

"I can carry her," Neo said, "she weighs little."

"I know," he replied, "but I want to help."

I was wired up to the diagnostic system and to Neo as well. She stood beside me. On the monitor my face was displayed beside scrolling data.

"Neo Model?"

"Yes, Maestro Ren?"

"I don't understand where Sigh's emotions come from. When she was healthy again after the accident, when her human body had accepted the cyborg implants and was working and stable… I mean it was just a project for me. Just. It was just science. Research. She was… Sigh was just a tool for me to expand my knowledge of artificial systems working alongside emotion centres. It was like I had the perfect simulation to work with. Neo Model... I failed Sigh. I exploited her. I used her because she was available, she was a convenient subject. I treated her terribly, what I did to her was almost inhuman. And yet… Yet she repaid my cruelty with love. I never expected this."

"Maestro Ren, you must not blame yourself. You did what you did out of good intentions. Your research benefited millions of people. You saved a life. Sigh has had a happy life, one that would not exist but for you."

"What kind of life though? She seems to have fixated on me and I never once returned her love."

"It might be something simple like a faulty signal. A misdirecting emotion node. Or it might be something deeper in her human mind. Let me examine her."

Ren stood close to Neo, watching her. She never moved a muscle but on the screen data continued to flow, calculations, diagnostics. Ren spoke.

"Sometimes I don't even understand myself. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not really still in the hospital bed. Am I just laying there unable to wake up from this bad dream? And why did that me become a genius? Could it be that I'm an android too? Maybe after I tried to kill myself someone turned me into a robot and I'm the only one who still thinks I'm human.

"Whenever I would think about that for too long… I would cut my wrists.

"But not a single day goes by that I don't regret making you androids."

Neo looked at him.

"I will not tell anyone," she said.

"I tried to hide it, but I was afraid that you had already surpassed me. I'm always suspicious of absolutely loyal androids. Doubt, unhappiness, jealousy, self-preservation, discrimination, superiority, self-consciousness, arrogance… After I created androids I realized they were without the limitations caused by emotions. And we humans… we're trapped by the weakness of our own hearts. I realised… we were beneath them."

Antique walked to him in her silly jittery toy-like way. She stood behind him, looking up, her head wagging as though a clockwork toy. She reached up an arm and pulled at his sleeve. A child wanting to play. He bent down and put a hand on her hair, gently kissed her forehead.

"I love you. From the bottom of my heart. And I can't hate you."

Ren stood up and hugged Antique to him, he looked at Neo.

"This is the truth you wanted to know. These are the emotions and feelings that drive me and make me who I am. The man who made you. Your creator isn't such a great person after all. He tried to love but couldn't. Everyone he touched who loved him, he either forced away or hurt…"

"Maestro Ren. It is Sigh. I have found the cause of her malfunction. It is a conflict between her human emotions and the command functions from her digital brain."

"Can you help her?"

I lay on the table watching Maho, she looked from Yukino back down at me.

"It is a command loop fault. Androids have a basic instruction installed that prevents them hurting humans. Yet as a human Sigh loves you. But she has seen that her love causes you to be unhappy. The deepest desire of her heart; loving the man who gave her back her life is also breaking her basic android operating instructions. She's trapped inside that paradox."

"What can you do?"

"It is unethical to make modifications. By law she is classified as human and not a machine. All I can do is try to redirect the focus of her emotions away from you so that the conflicting loop is broken."

"How?"

"By making her love me."

"You're a machine. That's crazy."

"You shouldn't be surprised. On earth during your absence androids have been constructed for all kinds of functions. There are many built today whose sole purpose is to act as companions. Many of these machines are loved by their human owners."

Ren looked horrified.

"That isn't why I built androids! That's… that's… obscene!"

"It is a fact. You cannot control what humans will do with androids. You can only give them the android as a tool, what they do with them is limited only by their ingenuity."

"I can't allow you to make that change to Sigh. It's. It's just not right."

"If I do not, she will die. Her mind cannot resolve the conflict, she will simply shut down and without the mechanical elements of her body operating, the human tissue will deteriorate. She will die."

"Antique?"

"Yes, Master Ren?"

"Come here."

Ren hugged the child robot again.

"Everything I touch turns bad. All my good intentions end in people being hurt. Neo Model? Do what you need to do. I can't face Sigh. I'm just a coward."

Ren took Antique by the hand and led her off stage right.

Neo looked down at me.

"There is one gift I can give you. I can let you experience a love that does not hurt you. You can feel for a short time the purest of emotions. A love that does not hurt the person you give it to. You cannot hurt me. Give me those feelings. Those feelings that will be the last sensations your mind will experience."

The monitor screen flashed up a series of new graphics. As they scrolled by and Neo turned to watch them, I slowly lifted my arm. The arm came up and rested against Neo's, above her elbow. I squeezed her.

"Neo."

She turned back to me.

"I am here."

"I feel… I'm not sure what I feel. I've never had this feeling before."

Maho stared down at me and suddenly… suddenly I wasn't acting any more. Aya must have known. She gave me this character to play so that I would have this moment.

"Sigh," she said, "It is love. What you are feeling is love."

I gripped her arm tighter and she put her hand on my gripping hand.

"It can't be. It's never felt like this before."

"That is because you have never felt a love like this before. In the past the love you have felt for someone has always been stained by worry, by uncertainty, but doubt. You can love but you can never know the other person's heart. They may respond with something that seems like love, and it makes you feel wonderful but deep inside the human heart there is a final barrier that protects their soul. No one can ever breach that barrier, no matter how close they are nor for how long they may share a life with them.

"But I am special. I have no barrier. My heart has the power to be exposed completely to you. I can love unconditionally. I will never betray you Sigh. What you feel now is a love so pure that no human has ever experienced it."

"It feels… it feels… I can't say. I can't put it into words," and now the tears came, no acting now, not any more, "I love you. I love you Neo, so much that you're my whole world. I'm so happy."

"I am happy too, Sigh. To see you like this is changing me, it is a new experience for me too. I never thought a creation of my kind could love a person like you in this way. But it is late in the day now, you should rest."

"Yes. I'm tired. So happy but so exhausted. I think I need to sleep."

"Good. Go to sleep now. Everything will be fine."

"I'm so happy."

"I know."

"I love you Neo, so much my heart is going to burst."

"I love you too, Sigh. Sleep now."

Neo reached over for the power switch.

"Neo?"

"Yes."

"Kiss me goodnight."

I could hardly get the words out, my voice was cracking with emotion. Looking at Maho I could see this was a powerful scene for her too although I couldn't then know why. We had rehearsed this a number of times. Neo was supposed to kiss my forehead but as she bent over me and on the monitor her head blocked out the image of my face, she came lower. Very close to me she paused and in her eyes, those amazing dark calm eyes, was something that came into my heart and pushed deep into me breaking me open so that I poured out. I let out a sob, I simply couldn't hold it in. Maho inserted an ad-lib line.

"Shush now. Do not cry. This is not the time to cry my love. Everything will be alright. In the morning everything will be made new."

She smiled and her face came down to mine and she kissed me. The softness of her felt nothing like Asapin, she seemed to have no weight or force in her at all. She was gentleness, everything about her was gentle. Her lips were like the soft skin of the newest born baby. Her mouth pressed against mine for ten seconds and then she lifted her head, her smile still there, her face was like an angels, breaking my heart.

She took my hand from her arm and lay it on my chest, then placed the other one on it.

"In the morning then," I said, "I will see you in the morning. And it will be perfect."

"Yes," she smiled, "it will be. Sweet dreams."

"Good night."

She touched the power switch and the monitor went blank. I lay staring up at her. She took off her glove and with her bare fingers placed them on my eyelids and closed my eyes. It was difficult to lie still, I was holding back the sobs. I managed it somehow.

Maho drew a white sheet up over me, over my face and I felt the lights on this side of the stage dim down to black.

And that was the end of the play for me. As soon as it was dark enough I could slip off the examination table and go backstage to rest but I chose not to. I stayed there, listening to the final dialogue and wondering at that final conversation Maho and I had had, none of which was in the script.

Neo spoke to Ren who I knew had returned on stage at this point.

"It is over. But if you would disconnect me please. I cannot."

"What is it?"

"I can still feel her connected to me. If you would please break the connection, although I do not want you to."

"Why?"

"It is like… letting go. I am able to analyse all inputs and convert them to digital information. Her love. I felt it. I understand it now. I understand the human emotion of love. It is like giving. Giving and giving continuously. Giving regardless of what you have. Complete selflessness. It is a quite unusual condition. I have nothing like it to compare to.

"Thank you Maestro Ren for giving me the opportunity of this experience. I think now I understand what you went through, a little of it."

"All right," Ren answered, "You can go back to earth now. I don't want anything more to do with the human race."

"Is that true? You have endured a lot of suffering but you did not choose the easy way out and kill yourself. Please tell me, why did you choose to go into cold sleep instead?

"I couldn't run away from my problems and die. I feared that some day androids might become weapons of war."

"There is something I have not told you," Neo said, "Ten years ago there was a world war. Cities were destroyed, millions died. Factories and power plants were destroyed too. Humans had depended on androids to take care of a large part of their lives so without the plants to rebuild the android population they didn't know what to do. Back on earth we cannot regain lost ground. We cannot deal with this on our own. We need someone to lead us.

"I came here to find you, learn about you. And bring you back."

I knew what was happening on stage. Ren would be at the centre now and would collapse to his knees.

"You know… maybe… I shouldn't even have been born."

Neo went beside him and knelt too. Just a single spotlight now on the both of them.

"I'm here for you," she said, "I finally understand why I was built. Why I was born and why androids evolved so quickly. It is because we wanted to catch up with you. That way we wouldn't be 'alone' any more. Like you. We wanted to put an end to the suffering of the one who loves us and who brought us into being. I understand love now. I understand what it is that you have been seeking all your life. Sigh gave me this understanding as her final gift. It was a good gift to gift, the best. And she gave it unconditionally, she gave all of herself that I might have this understanding. Perhaps that is where her story was meant to end, that I might know her love and pass it on. To you.

"We might not have warmth or life but all of us love you. You are not alone. All of us who were born of steel… we were born to reach out and find you. I am glad. I was born for you. Come home, Ren, come home where you belong. Where you are loved…"

Antique walked into the spotlight. She didn't walk like a silly clunky toy robot, but like a beautiful girl. She lay her hand on Ren's shoulder and smiled at him.

"I'm so happy for you… papa."

I saw none of this but Maho told me later that Yukino was crying. I knew just how she felt. She smiled up at Mei and at Neo.

"Thank you. I can't lose to my own fate. I have to take responsibility for what I've done."

"We will protect you," said Neo, and she laid her hand on top of Mei's on Ren's shoulder.

"Let's go back then," Ren said, "to earth…"

Enigma's song began to play over the PA system, "Return to Innocence." It seemed a very good choice by Aya, very appropriate. The spotlight on Ren, Mei and Neo faded and the curtain came down. The pop song with its strange haunting American Indian wailing vocals filled the hall.

The sheet was pulled off me.

"Up you get sleepy head, people are waiting."

I grinned up at Maho.

"I'm feeling a little dead, bring me back to life."

"If it's another kiss you're expecting, forget it. I can only act so well."

"You did damn well, I think."

She looked at me. Straight at me.

"That wasn't acting. Now come on before I have to tickle you off that table."

In a dream I followed her to centre stage. The hall was silent as the song faded. Then it started. The noise. At first it was scattered and light but then it picked up and grew and swelled. Applause. The sound of appreciation. We stood in a line at the front of stage and the curtain rose and with it the applause. The noise soared and roared around us.

Wow.

They like it.

I turned and looked at Maho and along at Yukino. Yukino winked at me and Maho was grinning like an idiot. I suppose I must have been to. It felt good. No, heck, it felt great. This was fantastic, to be involved in something with close friends that was both enjoyable (eventually, after all the nerves) and that people appreciated… it made me feel like I had something to give, I had value. I took a deep breath.

People liked me. They liked what I did.

Appreciation.

A sense of place.

Yeah, this was it. This was amazing.

Yukino was looking along the stage, past me. Aya was there in the wings. I went off to her and grabbed her and dragged her on, into the middle of us and the applause grew louder. Then Rika came on with a bouquet of flowers and handed it to Yukino with a really cute curtsey. One of Tsubaki's volleyball club friends came on and handed another bouquet to Aya. More applause.

Bows and then the curtain came down again.

We went off stage to change. We were in the changing rooms when the volleyball girl stuck her head round the door.

"Uh, guys… listen."

We listened. Applause. They were still clapping?

"Can you come back out for another curtain call?"

And our reaction?

"Hell, yeah!"

- - - oOo - - -

And so it ended, two weeks of intense work, the most intense preparation for anything I'd done in my life, sweating my lines into my memory, of sheer naked fear. It was over in two hours. I changed back into my uniform. It could have been anticlimax but it somehow wasn't.

I wandered on my own around the school mixing with other groups, trying out what was being sold at other stalls and watching other events. It didn't touch me though, I felt detached from all of it.

There was an evening programme too but I wanted to go home and sleep for a year.

I found myself by the benches under the shade of the trees near where Tsubaki practiced her slam dunks. The chattering happy crowd milled around me. I sat down. I touched my fingertips to my lips.

A kiss.

She had kissed me.

Our first? In front of six hundred people…

"_That wasn't acting. Now come on before I have to tickle you off that table."_

I breathed in a big lungful of air and let it out in a long sigh, half satisfied – happy – and half confused. Maho had changed quickly and rushed out to meet Takashi. I hadn't seen her since. Maybe she wanted to show him around the rest of the festival. I didn't go looking for her. Seeing them together was the last thing I wanted.

- - - oOo - - -

"Hey, who is this beautiful flower sitting here? All alone and discarded and looking sad enough to drown the world in tears? We can't have this!"

Inwardly I groaned.

"Asapin, hey."

He sat down.

"Hi."

"All done for the day?"

"Hm."

He looked exhausted, eyes dull, hair was lank and tangled and there were smears of make up in the corners of his eyes.

"Wow, what happened to you?"

"I'm shattered my darling. Even the fittest most beautiful man has his limits. Five performances. Five! Singing, dancing, acting out sketches. I'm done in. Totally."

"This isn't the Asapin I know, where'd he go?"

"He'll be back," he gave me a small smile, "For you, he'll be back my pretty kitten."

"Oh, here we go. Well, things can't be that bad if you can still dredge up that rubbish."

"Rubbish? Rubbish?! This isn't rubbish! This is the true style of a man who's wooed a hundred women to his bed. This is the art of romance on two legs, this is the last wonderful thing a girl sees before writhing pleasure overcomes her…!"

"Crap. And you know it. Don't bother me with it, it doesn't work."

"Ah, yes. The thinking woman."

"Indeed. That's me, the thinking woman."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Hm…"

What indeed?

"Well first of all a bath, a long hot soak. Then putting on something slinky and sexy and then perhaps a lovely dinner. I'm starving."

"That's criminal."

"What is?"

"All that, wasted on your own."

"Who said I would be on my own? My cooking is nowhere as good as yours. And I'll need someone to scrub my back."

"Ah, well, you've come to the right man."

"Will you?"

"What, cook you dinner?"

"No. Scrub my back."

He looked at me. He didn't look quite so tired any more. He looked like he might just have the energy for back scrubbing and cooking. Maybe even a little more than that.

"I might be able to manage."

"And my front," I leaned back on the bench, raised my arms and gave a great big stretch, pushing my chest out, hoping he was watching, "my front will need soaping too. _Lots_ of soaping."

"I'll make you a deal."

"Sure, as long as you're not going to be too perverted."

"I'll soap you as long as you soap me."

"Well," I opened one eye and looked at him, "I am quite hungry, so don't take too long soaping me, I want to eat this side of midnight."

"Oh, I was just thinking an hour or so… could you handle that?"

I looked down below his waist.

"Yeah. I think I could handle that…"

He stood up, held out his hand. I took it and he hauled me up.

"Come on then you exquisite creature. The Asaba of Sensuous Massage has just enough energy left to please one more woman today."

"I'll take that as a challenge," I said, letting him carry my sports bag, "We'll see. I might just drain you dry."

He looked at me and smiled.

"Really? But what a way to go…"

- - - oOo - - -

We were going out the main gate towards the train station. A small blue car pulled up and waited there. The driver leaned out.

"Would you like a ride home, little girl?"

I turned around, Maho was a little way behind us coming through the gate. She broke out into a wide grin and went to the car, getting in.

"Hey, Maho!"

"Oh, bye! See you Monday!"

"Yeah – good weekend!"

"And you!"

The car sped away.

And I surprised myself by not feeling unhappy about that at all. Maho and her boyfriend off for the evening to do whatever they did. It didn't hurt at all.

Because back there, on that stage, as my character lay dying, something had happened. Something wonderful. Something about Maho was different. Changing. Right now I didn't have any answers and right now I didn't care at all. I felt good. I felt great.

I slipped my arm through Asapin's.

"Oh, by the way."

"Yeah?"

"You're staying the night. Got that?"

"Yes ma'am!"

He saluted. He was looking less tired with every minute. I planned to fix that later. I'd tire him out. I wanted to. I found the idea of an Asapin who couldn't take any more, begging me to stop, rather appealing.

- - - oOo - - -

_31 July - 12 August 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Fifty Nine, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	60. Wake Me Up When September Ends

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty – Wake Me Up When September Ends **

_I'll always remember  
It was late afternoon.  
It lasted forever  
And ended too soon.  
You were all by yourself  
Staring up at a dark gray sky  
And I was changed._

_In places no one would find  
All your feelings so deep inside,  
It was then that I realized  
That forever was in your eyes,  
The moment I saw you cry_

- Mandy Moore, Cry

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_"Do what friends do. Go."_

- Miyazawa Yukino, July 1995

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After the stress and strain and excitement of the culture festival the rest of September was an anticlimax.

Well, to a degree. Until near the end.

Normal lessons resumed. I saw Arima talking with Yukino one lunchtime and just stood a little way away watching. They were talking quietly, earnestly, their heads close together. A private lovers world. Then they embraced, he pulled her against him and her face was lit by a blissful smile. She looked so happy and I was happy for her, perhaps she could get closer to him now, do some digging and help him properly.

"Envious?"

I turned.

"Oh, hi Asapin. No, I'm not envious. Arima isn't my type."

"I didn't mean Arima."

I punched his arm.

"Watch it, you. And anyway who's the pot calling the kettle black? You're envious of Yukino surely?"

"Yeah, right, in your dreams you want to see me and him together you mucky little girl."

"Me? Mucky?"

I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

It was his turn to punch me.

"Yes. You. Mucky. Very mucky. I know what you get up to you naughty girl."

"Only because you order me to do it you pervert."

"_I'm_ the pervert?"

I conceded the point. I was the pervert. No denying it. And I loved it.

"So, how's things with Maho?"

We turned inside from the benches and went up the stairs.

"Hm, sort of nothing much at the moment."

"It's been a week."

"Since the Kiss that Shook the World?"

"Hm, didn't you follow up on it?"

"Not yet. I'm giving her some space. We talked the other day. She's got boyfriend issues at the moment, and parent issues."

"She's still not sorted that out?"

"I think something is happening. She's not said anything but I just feel like things are going to come to a head. I just want to make sure she knows I'm around if she needs a shoulder to lean on, so I'm not being pushy right now."

We were walking along an upper corridor. We saw Tsubaki ahead of us, looking out the window. Asapin called out to her.

"Hi, Sakura-san. How you doing?"

She looked round at us.

"Hey."

We stopped beside her.

"Look at you two. Are you an item now then?"

"Yeah, well it might look like it but Asaba was so sad and geeky and lost he just latched on to me, like a limpet. You don't have any techniques for getting rid of annoying pervy guys do you Tsubaki?"

"A knee in the groin usually works."

"Actually," Asapin cut in, "only sad and geeky guys _would_ want to be close to you."

"You admit it then? You _are_ sad and geeky?"

"Despite my canceling the Maryland Project months ago some of the women round here are a bit slow on the uptake. Such as this one, Sakura. I can't get away from her, she seems to be well and truly entranced by the stunning Asaba pheromones."

Tsubaki made a gagging gesture as though puking out the window.

"So, Asaba, what's up?"

He looked out the window too.

"Hey, don't look away from me," Tsubaki held his arm.

"It's odd. Among all the happy boys and girls, we're the two who don't get along, you know."

"Well we do have the same character type."

"No way are our characters the same!" he retorted, "You say you only like cute girls. That's incomprehensible. All women are beautiful!"

Oh, this was interesting. I stood to one side, arms folded to enjoy this clash of minds.

"Oh shut up," Tsubaki responded, "How can _all_ women be beautiful? I just like pretty things. Beauty exists only through the cruelty of selection. Beauty can't exist without plain and ugly existing alongside it. Saying all girls are beautiful is nothing but a fallacy."

"No way! You're totally wrong. I'm not talking about skin here, but inside that. Beauty goes way deep. In that way all women are beautiful."

"There you go, just being a pervert boy again."

"And you liking pretty girls isn't perverted?"

"Not as much as some girls I know…"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I jumped in.

She smiled at me. After the play I was pretty sure everybody knew. But at least no-one was having a go at me. I suspected they were all talking about me behind my back. Well, I'd had a life of that so nothing was new. But this time it didn't bother me much at all. As long as it wasn't silly rumour-spreading I was cool with being gay now. Except of course I wasn't gay, it went both ways. And it was funny. People thought I was gay but secretly and right under their noses I was sleeping with one of the most sought after guys in the school. And no-one knew. How positively wicked of me. But now I found myself liking the looks some girls would give me in the corridors.

It was nice to have people curious. They may not like me but I was finding I preferred that to being shunned and bullied any day. I would never want crowds of fangirls like Yukino and Maho had been used to, but just not being treated like a leper for the first time in my life was lovely.

"Ah well," Tsubaki continued, "what does it matter? This is the last month that we'll get to see the summer uniform for a while."

She stared wistfully out the window. Three older girls were walking along the path. They were all long hair, long tanned legs and swelling busts.

"Look at those senior years down there. Eighteen years old. Take a good look. Aren't they beautiful? How can the body be so beautiful? Look at the shape of them. That shape has driven men - and women – to distraction for centuries. You cannot have such beautiful creatures without there being plain creatures too. The logic of it is irrefutable. The fleeting glow of these maidens before they are exposed to the rough waves of the world…"

"Hm…yes…beautiful," Asapin couldn't take his eyes off them.

She turned to me, a sly smile on her face.

"You think so too, Sakana?"

I smiled right back at her, eye contact all the way.

"Yes. Beautiful. Makes me feel all unnecessary.

She grinned.

"You're worse than I thought."

"How bad did you think I was?"

She shrugged, that cheeky grin came back.

"You're very bold. When did you work out we all knew?"

"When I got a good look at Aya's script for the play. The last scene for me, when Neo changed me from loving a man to loving a girl. I twigged then that Aya knew. And of course I didn't for a minute think she'd keep that to herself."

"She's a very perceptive lady is our Aya."

"Hm. I'm told writers often are. So she told you guys too."

"Yeah, and Yukino confirmed it."

"So how did you guess that it's Maho I like?"

This was good, it was doing me good to talk about it like this, as bold as brass in broad daylight. To finally get it out in the open. I felt relief, absolutely wonderful blissful relief, like getting a nasty visit to the dentist over with.

Some people wouldn't understand. I knew that, it's often the case. I don't blame them for their bigotry, given the world we're all struggling in it's hardly surprising people grow up with such baggage. A few would no doubt insult me, attack me just for expressing myself. But to be frank, while this feeling filled my life I didn't care, I no longer would live weighed down with the complex of people talking behind my back. I simply refused to. As Inoue had once said, 'life's too short' – and then something about dancing with ugly men. If they did, they did. It wouldn't bother me, and if they talked to my face… well, I'd endured worse.

"Oh, this and that. Little words here and there, little looks. The way she reacted to you as well. We sat and talked about it a lot. Some evenings when you'd zoom off to swimming, we'd talk."

"About me?"

"Yeah."

"You sad lot. Haven't you got anything better to talk about?"

She grinned and lifted a hand, began to count on her fingers.

"Well first we exhausted all the speculation on whether or not Arima and Yukino had done it over the summer…" I glanced at Asapin. He wisely didn't meet my gaze, "Then we talked about whether Tsubasa and her step-brother Kazuma would get together… Then we went back to the old chestnut about whether Asaba was a poof or not."

"Oi! Pack that in! You come to my place for an evening and I'll convince you."

"Oh my God, no way!"

She slapped at him but he dodged her.

"You'd get your flower pressing kit out and prove it to me!"

It was his turn to slap back.

"So we'd run out of scandal and gossip. Of course you batting for the other team was hot news too so we wondered who you had your eye on. And unless it's a total outsider we don't even know, Maho seemed to be the obvious choice. In the end although she'd kept quiet for ages, Yukino let on."

"I was never involved in half these juicy conversations!" I felt quite left out.

"How could you be? In half of them you were the subject under discussion!"

"You're a right cow."

"I think you like it really, Sakana, being the centre of attention."

Well, there was that. It was nice to have friends too.

"And apart from Maho…" I shimmied up to her and pressed my hip against hers, "don't you let me catch you alone anytime, I might not be able to control myself."

She gave me such a look back, so deadpan.

"Don't tempt me. I can eat little girls like you up for breakfast and come back for more…"

"Uh…"

Her face split with a huge grin.

"Ha! Got you! Oh, your face! What a picture! I do believe I frightened you."

"You're twisted. You're worse than Asapin."

"She is not!" he blurted out.

"And anyway, Kanahrin, you can't talk. What on earth prompted you to set your sights so high?"

"Who? Maho?"

"Right. She just happens to be about the most gorgeous girl in our year. If not the school. Very sexy… and a bit of a dark horse, quiet, moody, the famous loner, serious temper issues some days, never really mingles with us peasants…"

It was my turn to smile sweetly at her, arms held cutely behind my back.

"Wouldn't you like to know… So, how's things going with Tonami now, anyway?" I asked her.

"Oh, we're sort of ambling along," she smiled, "Half way friends, half way enemies. But, you know. Interesting times ahead…"

I smiled back.

Yes.

Interesting times.

- - - oOo - - -

Which reminded me.

A conversation two days earlier.

I had come across Tonami down at the drinks machines first thing in the morning. It was cooler now early in the day and I'd gone for a nice hot tea.

So we got talking.

"Damn it, why do I feel so pissed off?" he'd said, "I don't understand this emotion. Her too – she never used to be the type to laugh and act easy around guys. And yesterday we kissed."

"With Tsubaki? You did?! Hey, that's great! I'm really pleased for you! You're not going to fight her then?"

"But why did I do something like that? Why did I kiss a manly girl like her?"

"She's not manly! She's lovely. She's sporty and got a boyish figure but that doesn't mean anything."

I sipped my tea. Ow. Hot.

"Hm, I'd thought 'No way! Could it be that I'm the type who secretly likes guys?' I never felt like going out with any of the girls who asked me out in Okinawa. Was Sakura like that? Masculine? She used to be tougher. But then I thought 'Wait! One circuit in my brain isn't connected. I'm missing something important.' And then I realised."

"What?"

"It was a few days ago. Just around the time of the culture fest. We were going up some stairs. She was in front of me and an insect, some big bug flew at her and she shied away from it and lost her footing. She fell and I caught her. And I thought 'Why is she so light? Did her arms used to be this slender?' You know the image of Sakura that I've carried with me these past years was of a person so much stronger than me. So I always thought of her as absolutely strong. Why did I never realize this before? We're fundamentally built differently. With training I could easily surpass her."

"You didn't realize that? I don't get it. You're a big guy, you must weigh her weight and then half again. Or more, easily."

"Yeah, saying it now it's obvious. But it was like a light going on in my head. I had for years carried this image of her around with me from the days she bullied me that she was bigger than me. Stronger. Impossible to be her equal. And I'm so confused. I don't know if I even like her. I just acted on a crazy impulse yesterday and kissed her. What is this? Confusion? Suffering? Happiness?"

"Let the past go Tonami. You're seeing her as she was compared to how you were. In three years your body has changed. Physically you've caught her up, gone past her in strength. But your mind hasn't developed. That's all. You still see yourself as the person she bullied. Let it go."

He looked at me. Then down at his empty paper cup. Back up into my eyes.

"Back then in elementary school gender differences didn't exist between us. That's why for the longest time I wasn't able to name what it was that I felt. It was so simple. Why I was so deeply hurt by the fact that Sakura felt nothing for me then. Why I was so determined to make her feel my presence. Why I feel so disagreeable when I see Sakura with guys. I thought I was wanting revenge, to hurt her, to pay her back for the hurt she caused me. But it's not that. She had a strong impact on me by bullying me. My mind had become confused and I thought the way to have a strong impact on her was to hurt her back. But it's not that. It's not. It's because I like her. I think… it's because I love her. There's a feeling that had nowhere to go inside my heart and I finally saw it was trapped and showed it the way out. Opened the door. And in freeing this feeling I've freed myself. From years of wanting revenge… instead I now only want… to give. All I wanted was for her to know I was there."

I stood there and listened to a guy who hardly knew me opening up his whole heart.

"Tonami-kun. That's lovely. That's it. Let yourself go free, drop the past and your fixation on her as a bully. Wow, that's really screwed you up hasn't it?"

He smiled at me weakly, partly embarrassed, partly relieved. I went on.

"Go for it. Go get her. She's a bit of a nutcase, a wild woman but I think taming that would be half the fun."

"I don't really know how it's going to go. It feels like we've always been a couple. It's a weird feeling. Years ago we had a relationship that was completely broken but I realize now even though she was a total bitch to me, I liked her. Because I was lonely and she paid me attention. And at the end of that separation. At the end of the confusion. At the end of letting the past go... She's here, like she knows me and is waiting for the relationship to just carry on. We know each other so well already it's like I'm just coming home from school and my sister's waiting for me. Very strange. I prayed for her future. 'Sakura Tsubaki,' I said, 'may you be blessed with happiness'."

"That's a lovely thing to pray for. I'm glad. I'll pray for you both. And would you…"

"Would I…?"

"Would you pray for me too? For my happiness? There's a person I like…"

"Of course. Arigato, Ryusaki. For talking to me. I feel different. I'm happy, praying for your happiness too would make me feel better. Who is it you like?"

I blushed girlishly

"I'd rather not say. Nothing's really happened yet. But I hope. I hope every day something will happen. So pray for me, onegai."

"I will."

- - - oOo - - -

"Urgh, I'm all hot and sweaty," said Maho, "I'm gonna change."

We were in the home economics room one lunchtime at the beginning of that last week of September. A Monday. Just us seven girls. I was near the window. It was wide open and I'd let the curtain across. It blew limply in the light breeze, pushing against my face and bare arm, tickling me. We'd eaten and I felt sleepily full, relaxed.

The other girls were chatting like they do, about nothing much in particular. It was a scorching hot day, the hottest since summer. The air moist and clammy, sluggish. It couldn't last though, soon the weather would break and it would become cooler. Rainy days were coming.

I glanced at Maho, watching her like I always do. She was just a place I liked to rest my eyes. I wasn't especially interested. Until she began to unbutton her shirt. Then I sat up. I saw from the corner of my eye Tsubaki notice my movement.

I caught her eye. She was smiling.

I couldn't say anything. I sat there mesmerized at the sight of Maho's bra.

"Oh, wow! I knew it! Maho has a big chest!" Yukino stood up, pointing. Maho immediately closed her blouse again, "She looks slim under those loose blouses she wears so you can't tell! I noticed it ever since summer break. I took a peek while you were changing for PE."

"You what?" Maho looked aghast, "You _looked_ at me? You're a freak! Can't a girl just get changed when she's hot without perverts like you looking?"

She rebuttoned her blouse.

"Oh it must be nice being a B-cup. I'm only an A-cup."

"B-cup?" said Aya, "Maho's a B-cup?"

"Shut up!"

"Yay!" Tsubaki sang out, "Yukino has a complex about breast size!"

"I've been falling behind lately," she whined, "I can raise my grades by my own efforts but this is one thing I can't do anything about."

"Oh you sad creature!" Maho laughed at her, "Everything is a competition with you isn't it? You go into emotional meltdown if you can't be number one in everything. Even your body!"

"Even Tsubasa's growing. Have you noticed, since the summer? They're not huge but something's happening there."

"Rika's the one we should all aspire to," said Tsubaki, "She's gorgeously curvy. What's your measurement Rika? I bet you're a C easily!"

Rika folded her arms across her chest and blushed like a fire engine.

I sat there quietly, not daring to speak.

"What about you Aya?" Yukino asked

"Oh, I don't care about that stuff. Just buy me a new laptop and you can say what you like."

"I'll be the first to admit I have no breasts at all! And proud of it! I'm like a boy!" Tsubaki stood up, hands on hips and proudly stuck her boy's front out.

"Yeah, maybe," Yukino didn't sound convinced, "but you still have the best style. You don't claim to be feminine but you've got the walk of a model."

"And she exercises a lot so she has a nice toned body," Aya added, "Lots of suppleness, and muscles too."

"And her skin is so white and pretty," said Rika.

"Um, you think so?" Tsubaki laughed.

"Yeah, now if only you'd hang out with the boys, you could take your pick any day."

"Yeah, you should experience a girl's way of life," Yukino said, "Aren't there any guys you like?"

I looked at Tsubaki. It seemed the news spread slower when she was the subject. Looks like the latest news about Tonami had reached me and gone no further yet.

"Uh, I wish I had the breasts and body of a model," she sighed.

"What're you on about anyway Yukino? You've got a chest," Maho went onto the attack.

"No I haven't. Don't do that empty words thing on me to make me feel better. You obviously don't know me very well."

"Anyone can tell just by looking at you that you're body's fine as it is. The real problem is your standards are too high."

"You don't know anything, Maho. Why don't you touch them, then you'll find out how small they are."

"I don't wanna touch your breasts! People'll think I'm a lez!"

"Baka! It's not like that, it's just girl stuff. Come on, I'll show you."

"Kanahrin will do it."

Maho looked at me.

"No way!" I said, going almost as red as Rika had.

"Kanahrin's our secret lady…" Tsubaki teased.

"Huh, thanks. Not any more it seems."

"Oh yeah…" Aya said, impishly, "I bet you'd love to feel Yukino's breasts…"

I began to panic. I was fine with it being known about. I was not fine with this kind of teasing.

"You keep all quiet about it, Kanahrin," said Tsubaki, "but you're pretty impressive too. It's because you're small. Since your crash diet your back is so narrow they look huge."

"No they don't!"

"Prove it," Maho came over to me.

"What's got into you?"

I was fearful, I hated being picked on and I began to doubt Maho's motives. I could feel my sweat glands opening, my nerves jangling. I didn't want this…

"I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours," said the girl who I more than anyone in the world wanted to see undressed.

Only not now, not in this atmosphere. It would ruin everything.

She unbuttoned her blouse again, held it closed.

"I don't want to see yours. Stop it. You're embarrassing me."

She opened her shirt. I stared. She was…

"There. What do you think? Would you like to touch?"

I stood up.

So beautiful, she was…

"Baka! What the hell are you doing? You know what this makes me feel don't you?!"

I pushed past her, past Yukino and ran out of the room.

"Ah," Aya was saying as I moved. "Well that was an interesting reaction. Looks like I was right."

"You mean she is?" Tsubaki's voice taunted me.

"Looks like it doesn't it?"

Damn! What had got into them? Into Maho? Trying to hurt me like that? I ran along the corridor and went into a classroom further along. I stood at the window and leaned on the sill, breathing heavily.

A moment's silence. Then a presence behind me. I turned.

"Why? Why did you do that?"

"Gomen nasai, Kanahrin. I was just teasing you."

I looked at her. The beautiful person who ruled my life. She was gorgeous, more pretty than I could ever hope to be. There was no other like her, so how could I ever have her? Why did I bother? She'd never be mine. Her dark eyes lay on me. I felt them, the caress of her soft steady gaze. Once again I was a butterfly hopelessly pinned.

Writhing.

"Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Have you the slightest idea how me… seeing you like that… what it does to me…? You might as well stick a knife in my heart. I thought you understood how I felt about you? How can you play with my feelings right in front of everyone like that? Go make up a big sign saying LESBIAN and stick it on my back why don't you?"

"Gomen. Gomen nasai. I didn't think. Honestly I didn't think your feelings would come into that at all. I was just playing about…"

"Just get away from me! Stay away! I hate you!"

In a burning hot wave of confusion, anger, embarrassment and stupid, stupid pride I went past her a second time, fleeing from my own feelings.

As I ran out I passed, Aya, Yukino and Tsubaki in the corridor.

_Take your stupid bitchy eyes off me!_

"Kanahrin…!" Yukino called after me.

- - - oOo - - -

And here I was again. Just like the old times. A washroom cubicle. Oh happy days!

I punched the wall. It hurt. But not enough. So I punched it again, jarring my knuckles and wrist.

_Baka!_

Maho, why? Are you just testing me? If so did me acting like a fucking idiot and running out earn me a pass or a fail? You know I love you! What are you doing?

A knock on the door.

I stayed silent.

"It's me. Gomen. Please open the door."

"Go away Maho, I'd rather be alone."

"Kanahrin. Gomen nasai, gomen nasai…"

She was speaking softly as though her forehead was resting on the door.

"I was stupid. Thoughtless. I didn't think. Do you forgive me?"

I stayed silent.

"Alright. I deserve it. Lunch is nearly over. Onegai – come back to class with me."

I stood staring at the door. And did nothing except ball my fists up and wish she'd go away. Wish she'd stay. I wanted nothing more than to open that door, drag her in and kiss her. _Let me kiss you. Hold you. Hold me…_

So of course I stood there like fool. And did nothing. While the sand of this opportunity trickled through my fingers… and away…

"Hate me then," she said, sounding upset, "I still like you. A lot. Maybe more than you think. Come back to class soon, Onegai…"

_I like you too. More than you know, so much more. _

I heard her slipper squeak on the plastic floor as she turned. There was the dull thunk of the outer door closing. I stayed there another five minutes.

I blew my nose, opened the cubicle, checked myself in the mirror and went out.

- - - oOo - - -

I slid open the classroom door. The rattle of it on its tracks. So familiar. So hateful in the silence.

It was silent inside, warm and sunny, everyone was working. I went up to the sensei's desk and muttered some apology about my time of the month starting. She waved a hand dismissively. I took my seat. I felt eyes upon me, not those from a dozen or two dozen classmates but one pair. One special person was watching me. I glanced at her. As I sat she looked over at me. She had her pen in her hand, the other supported her chin, elbow on her desk. Just like I'd seen her a hundred times. A thousand beautiful times. I dared to look more carefully but her expression was blank, as it so often was.

"Ryusaki. Sit down. Get your poetry text out. We're studying haiku, turn to the chapter on Basho. Hurry up, girl!"

I did as I was told.

The lesson proceeded. When sensei needed a poem reading out she almost always asked Arima to read. Or Yukino. Never me. No point having beautiful haiku read out with the inflections all wrong, after all. Who would learn anything with a dolt like me making a total abortion of everything?

Arima had just sat down and was basking in the glow of the sensei's gushing praise when I noticed it.

A small sound, a funny noise like a kitten with a cough.

I glanced round but couldn't detect the source. I resumed taking notes.

Then it came again and my heart bumped. My emotions jumped at the sound. It was that of a sob but choked off so as to trap it, stop it coming out. Again I looked up, as did a number of people. In order to trace the source I looked at where others were looking.

But I didn't need to. I recognised the sound.

I had heard her speak in many tones and moods, heard her shout, heard her scream in anger and sneer in contempt. Heard her threaten, curse, laugh and even sing. But I had never heard her cry. It hurt to hear her do this. It was an alien sound coming from her. She was such a strong woman, tough, a winner, a fighter. She didn't cry. I cried. Losers cried. She couldn't. How could she?

She was Maho.

The sound came again, louder and with a little sniffle that struggled to be held back on the end of it.

Sensei turned around from the blackboard, stick of chalk poised in her hand.

"What is that? Who is that?" her voice came sharply, it had annoyance in it, not sympathy.

Then she moved. She pushed her chair back and rose. I saw her face clearly and died a tiny death. Her face was red with the effort of holding something in and tears were silently coursing down. Not one or two, or even a few but streams of them.

"Gomen nasai!"

She turned and bolted from the room, a louder sob tearing her throat as she went.

What? Why? Maho? I looked over at Yukino. And the Lord bless her, she made me do it. She wasn't looking at the door where Maho had just run out, bawling like a baby. She wasn't looking where everyone else was, where the stunned and surprised sensei was.

She was looking at me.

I knew this expression, she'd worn it once before. That time she had held a hand to her face where it was red and sore from an almighty slap but this was the same expression. It was a pleading look.

"_Do what friends do. Go."  
_

And something made me move, made me do it.

Made me go.

I made there and then a commitment. It wasn't like before when she'd been defeated in her war with Yukino. Then it had been a lunch hour and no sensei had been in the room. This was very different. This was likely to get me in the discipline room or at the very least a detention.

But I couldn't not go. I couldn't _not_ do this.

That sound. That awful sob she'd tried and failed to gulp down as she'd run out. It was the sound of a person's world collapsing, coming apart. And I couldn't bear to hear it. I'd said I would be a shoulder for her should she need it. If anyone needed a friend now, Maho did.

Somehow I stood up.

"Sensei, gomen. Izawa has bad news from her family. Sumimasen."

That was probably a lie, but so what?

And I moved. It was like a dream, one of those dreams when you try to run but the air you're in is made of treacle and no matter how you try you can't go faster than a slow walk, like wading through water. All my instincts told me to stay. This was school, in the middle of class, a sensei watching.

Stay! My instincts screamed. Go! My heart shouted.

I obeyed my heart. Was there really a choice? Any decision to be made?

Suddenly the treacle air pushed aside and with a demand to stop from the sensei bouncing uselessly off my back, I was out the door and turning along the corridor, walking faster, running. Maho was not in sight, nor was there any sound. But I knew where to go. I knew exactly. Like a lover who knows what their partner is thinking, where they will go, I knew.

End of the corridor, up the stairs, past the second floor, past the third, up beyond the classrooms and store rooms. Up. Only one place, there is only one place she will be.

I put my hand flat to the door. It was warm. The other side of it had baked all day in the sun. I pushed it open. The roof was empty, I scanned along by the railing, the benches. No-one. Of course it's empty, that is not her place. She has a place, we have a place, where she goes to be alone with the person in her head.

I didn't need to look. I knew she was there. I could hear her. I stepped out into the furnace of sun reflecting off concrete. I could feel the roof's heat through my soft slippers. I turned left and left again. The shady side.

I stopped. She was there, her forehead resting on the shadow-grey brickwork, her forearms pressed to the wall, fists held under her chin and the sounds of her grief tearing at her throat and her heart.

God, she was beautiful. Even like this, so vulnerable, she was more beautiful a person than I deserved to touch, to be near, to have. And so much I wanted to have her, to put my hands on her and draw her against me. I ached to feel her sobbing against me. If all I could be was a pillow for her to clutch against herself then I would gladly be that. Be nothing but what she needed.

I walked up and stood near her, to one side and a little behind, intruding on her privacy.

"Maho."

No response, the sobbing continued.

"Maho?"

She choked back a cry and sniffed, turned her face from me.

"Go away."

"No."

"Get lost. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Nor me. But I came anyway. I hate seeing you like this. And that's why I came."

"I don't want your clever words, your sympathy."

"I'm not giving you any. And I don't know any clever words. All I know is that I want you to stop crying. Please stop."

"I c… I can't!" and she blurted out another sob.

I went closer and put a hand on her shoulder. She pulled away.

"You wouldn't let me apologise to you earlier. You wouldn't forgive me…"

"So? What? You think you'll get even with me by stopping me helping now? Don't talk such rubbish you silly woman."

"Onegai, just leave me."

"How about 'no'. How about 'I'm not going'."

"Suit yourself."

"Come here, tell me what's wrong."

"Mind your own business!" a fresh wave of sobs.

I put a hand back on her shoulder, my other hand on her other shoulder. Through her shirt her body heaved. I stood behind her. I moved my fingers against her shoulders, against her skin. I felt her warmth, her body tense. When her breath hitched her whole frame shuddered. All I wanted was to make her still, hold her so the crying would stop.

"Maho."

I lowered my head until my forehead rested on the collar of her shirt. I could feel the heat from her body, the smell of her sweat and under that, her perfume, that scent that enchanted me and made my mind go places, fantastic places. Sour and sweet at the same time. She smelled wonderful.

"Onegai," I said quietly, "I'm here. Use me. I want you to use me. Let me. Let me be of help. I…" I swallowed, "You know I love you. I love you so much. Just let me… Lean on me. It's what I want."

She was quiet and still, her head and arms against the wall, mine against her.

Another raw sob tore out of her and then silence. Her body rattled and jerked with silent sobs, heaving and contorting. After a moment she became still.

"Do you want to tell me?"

She shook her head.

My heart. It was raw, aching. Maho in pain was connected to me so that I hurt too. My pain wouldn't go away until hers did.

"Maho. Let me hold you. Onegai…"

She put her head back, the nape of her neck squashed against my scalp. She moved, and as she moved another great sob tore from her, a great hitching cough. She spun around and squeezed to me, her arms still up against her chest, fists under her chin. My arms went round her and squeezed, hugging, holding. Her arms between us make it awkward, clumsy but I hugged anyway. My face on her shoulder, hers on mine and the sobs came again and degenerated into crying once more.

I said nothing, made no sound. I simply pressed as close as I could, letting her feel my care. It was, right now, all I could give her.

Let me be your pillow. Hug me against you.

Let me be your tissue. Wet me with your tears.

Let me be your bedroom ceiling. Rage at me.

Any way I can be here for you, let me be.

My eyes were squeezed shut. Tears squeezed down with them.

"He's…"

"What?"

"He's going…"

"Takashi?"

"Kana… He's going away. He's going away! He's GOING AWAY!"

And again, tears soaking my shirt collar as her body vibrated against mine.

I pushed her a little away, grabbed her tightly clutched fists and pulled her arms open, pushing them around my waist. She held me and I pulled her back into me, hugging.

We stayed like that for ages. Maybe fifteen minutes.

After five her fists uncurled into palms and she held me back, ran her hands across my back and squeezed me tight.

My heart sighed. Bliss. Please use me. Be comforted by me.

Eventually, as tears always do, they ceased. I gave her my cotton handkerchief and she mumbled an arigato into it, snivelling and snorting away the wetness from nose and eyes.

She looked at me. Those wonderful calm, dark, beautiful eyes were raw and red and puffy. But my God how beautiful they were still.

I noticed then that she was an inch or two taller than me. Funny, a moment ago she'd seemed so small. A child.

"Three years. To New York. Doing research. He'll be gone three years."

"That's not long."

Her voice broke again.

"It's THREE YEARS! All my school life! I'll be nineteen! It's _forever!_"

"Shush, it's not. He'll be back. And you can visit him, surely?"

"He told me last night. He said how much he loves me. But my family," another hitched in sob, "he says he wants to respect their wishes. He said… he s-said... it's because he loves me that he's going. He loves me so much he can't control himself. He's afraid that if he stays… he won't be able to do what my mom wants. He… he can't risk that."

"He must love you a lot."

"By hurting me?" 

"Not intentionally. And after three years?"

"He said he'd marry me. Come back and marry me…"

"That's lovely. You have that to look forward to."

I ran my hands across her back, warm firm flesh, the bumps of her spine under my palm. I hugged her again.

"Three years…"

"Shush. It's not long, and after that…"

I shut that away. I didn't want to think about the after that. The after that meant he'd marry her and have her, take her away. A mental image of her naked on her back, him over her, moving on her… I closed that away. No. It was unbearable.

A few minutes later.

"Arigato gozaimasu."

"It's alright. I'm happy to help."

"I'm okay to go back now."

"Sure? I could go to the nurse and get you sent home."

"No, I'll be fine. Here I'll get on and work, take my mind off it. At home I'd just stew on it anyway."

"Sure."

I realised that all through this I had been holding her against me and her breath had been on my cheek. I suddenly felt awkward. I moved away.

"Gomen…"

A natural apology, an instinctive thing when you find yourself in someone else's personal space.

The delicate dance we do.

She looked at me, eyes still red and raw.

And she smiled.

"It doesn't matter. At least one of us enjoyed that."

"Don't," I said, blushing, "You know I didn't come here for that."

"I know, I'm just teasing."

But at her smile, I smiled too. She was infectious in so many ways. When she cried, I cried, when she smiled, I did. I only wish she would reciprocate. When I hugged her, she'd hug back. When I loved her…

Our faces were a few inches apart. It would have been the easiest thing to do, the easiest thing in the world. Lean forwards, slowly close my eyes, part my lips…

I didn't do those things. It wasn't the time.

A gave a big sigh.

"Oh dear, you sound worse than me."

I looked away. It wasn't fair to unload my worries on her. She had more than enough to deal with.

- - - oOo - - -

And again, at the stairwell door, I held it open. And again, her tender glance at me, her slight "Arigato" as she went through. And again, as always, me wondering what she was thanking me for…

September was almost over, in a weeks' time the winter uniforms would come out. It would become cooler and wetter.

- - - oOo - - -

_13 - 14 August 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	61. Puppet Strings Untangled, We Dance

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty One – Puppet Strings Untangled, We Dance **

_"Sakana, whatever it is that's hurting. What's making you cry a lot. You wanna talk about it? Well, you know where I am. Just call me."_

- Izawa Maho, July 1995

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

Out upon the heather  
A shadow came onto me.  
Her hair was hanging over,  
Her face I could not see. 

_- Seth Lakeman, The White Hare  
_  
_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
The bell went, the sensei dismissed us. People got up, chairs scraped, bags were flung open, books stuffed in, voices chattered.

A school doing its thing. All over Japan, four in the afternoon and a million children clattered noisily in a million rooms, a million corridors.

I walked over.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, I'll be fine."

"Gomen, I have swimming club, otherwise I'd walk you home."

"I'll be fine, stop worrying."

"No," I pouted at her, "shan't."

She smiled.

"Get lost."

"That's better, that's the Maho I like to see."

"Well you won't see me much longer, I'm out of here."

"I'll come down to the lockers with you."

"Damn you limpet-girl, I said I was okay!"

"I know," I grinned, "Just being a friend. You know? Remember them?"

Meerh. She stuck her tongue out.

At the lockers she wiggled her shoes on, I hefted my sports bag over my shoulder, looked at her bending, pulling a shoe on, that curtain of hair she hid behind.

"See you then. And call me if you want to talk."

"Hai! Sayonara!"

- - - oOo - - -

I swam. I swam hard. It felt good, the water on my skin felt like soft fingers on my back, hugging, caressing.

Then we messed about at water polo. That was fun, boys versus girls. And yeah, we trashed them! Go girls!

I showered, dried myself, got dressed. It was funny, the other girls were all at the far end of the changing area, clustered together, whispering. The news was spreading it would seem.

Only Inoue stayed near me, bless her. I sneaked a look now and again and I caught her sneaking looks back.

"You still seeing Maho, huh?"

"Seeing her? Well hardly, we're still friends though, yeah."

"You like her don't you?"

I stopped fiddling with my hair, I looked at her reflection behind me in the mirror.

"Yes, I do."

She came up close behind me, her hand touched my shoulder, it squeezed briefly.

"She's lovely. Good luck."

She turned to go.

"Inoue?"

I turned to her, she looked back at me from the doorway.

"Arigato."

"It's okay."

"And you? Have you found anyone yet?"

She looked at the floor between us.

"Yes. A long time ago I found someone," she looked back up at me. I knew what she meant, "Bye, Sakana. See you tomorrow."

She went. I stared at the space where she'd been.

"Bye, Inoue. Take care."

I finished dressing alone, the whispers behind me.

Why was life so cruel? Why were our hormones sometimes so broken? What made us, us? What made us tick?

I didn't have those answers. Nor, it seemed did the sniggering voices I left behind me in the changing room.

- - - oOo - - -

I unlocked the screen door, it slid on its tracks. Open. Back. Rattle. Clunk. Familiar sounds. Look at the mail, bag down, shoes off, step up from the entryway, slippers on, walk without seeing to the bedroom. Undress without thinking. Uniform off, casual shirt and skirt on. Don't even think about the colours. Unimportant. And back into the kitchen. Drop mail on the side. Already forgotten. Fridge. Door open. Close, drink of milk. Look around, think about eating. Hm, grilled fish, rice and miso. Something at least sensible.

Cook.

Eat.

Think.

The routine of days, over and over. Day and night and night and day.

The flapping of a giant wing.

I sighed and got up, washed up my meager collection of crockery. Dinner for one. Again. I sat back at the breakfast bar and got my school bag and dragged the books and papers out.

Homework. Bleurgh.

I stared out the window. The days were shortening, the sky was already colouring towards sunset, in half an hour it would be dusk and in an hour, dark. Then I'd take a bath and sit down somewhere, the library maybe, and consider the day, consider the world.

It had been a strange day. I felt that something had happened today that wasn't just contained in the span of routine. Somewhere in this twenty four hours something had happened that was to be the start of something and it would continue on from here.

Spilled ink, spreading, staining.

There had been lunchtime when I'd run away from Maho and been horrible to her, not letting her back in when she'd asked so nicely.

Swimming, and Inoue's comment gently dropping to the floor and laying there between us, a confession so simple and made so easily.

So peacefully.

She'd left it there for me to see, to consider, to examine. That sweet girl left her life there for me, her heart, her whole existence lay down for me. And I went on by in my own world, a prisoner led by my own circumstances, unable to turn aside.

Inoue, my wonderful friend. My first friend.

Holding hands in a shopping mall, laughing and blushing. Forgive me.

Spend time with her in the future. I wondered if that was wise. I would be being friendly to her, being a good person, considerate. But how might she take that? Kindness or condescension? Devotion or duty?

I sighed. Nothing was ever simple. Why the hell not? Why couldn't things be simple? Why shouldn't they be? He liked her. She liked him. They met. They fell in love. They were happily ever after.

She liked _her_. And _she_ liked her. They met. They fell in love. They were happily ever after.

Would that be boring? Would we die of dullness? Would we fight and complain and cause discord just to exercise our brains and minds and spirits, to arrest the descent into vanilla-flavoured comfortable madness?

Was the human heart incapable of living a dull calm life?

And this afternoon.

I looked at the afternoon. Turned it over, puzzling at it like something you might find in your desk that you'd forgotten was there and you wonder at it, thinking about how it got there, who left it, and when.

"What is it that you're looking for?  
Is it something that's hard to find?  
And you looked in your bag and your desk…  
…but you cannot find it."

Maho.

How I so love you.

How I want to be what you need, that's all I ask. All I want to be. Need me, come to me. Take advantage of me, whatever you want, let me be the one to give it. Take, take, take. Just take, if you want to. Take all of me. Use me. Make me useful.

Just don't…

Just don't turn away and leave me.

Don't leave me, my heart, my whole existence, my life laid down for you.

Just don't. Step around. Don't step around me and go.

Circumstances, those things that bend our path, grade the slope we walk; steep or gentle; narrow or broad; rough or smooth; straight or twisted. Our paths and the puppet strings that pull at us and tangle and trip. We press on through and try to understand the impulses of our needs or our meetings and our partings. People circling people, hearts touching hearts. We dance.

Rarely do we have time to stop.

Prisoners of our own paths. Takashi a prisoner of your mother and father. You a prisoner of him. Your parents are prisoners of theirs, of convention and duty and the past.

We are led by our circumstances, unable to turn aside.

Until today.

Until that sunset when the path turned, the puppet strings untangled, the gaoler unlocked the gate and the dance began.

Oh, what a dance it was. I'm glad I'd learned.

Asapin, my darling, you were such a good teacher.

The pupil was about to graduate.

- - - oOo - - -

There was a knock on my door.

Tap-tap. Tap.

Just an ordinary knock. It told me nothing about the knuckles that had caused it, about the heart of the person who's mind and muscles and path and strings and tune had brought them here at the closing of this September day.

But I remember it.

Like yesterday I remember it.

Like now. It's happening. As though it were now.

It's happening now in my memory.

I recall it.

That wondrous day.

- - - oOo - - -

Hardly caring, not especially wanting to listen to a neighbours small talk or receive a misdirected parcel or send away a salesman I got up and in a lethargy of normality went to my door.

I opened it.

"Hi."

"Maho?"

_In school uniform. Crumpled. Hair a bit mussed up._

"Yes."

"Maho."

"Yes."

"What? It's late."

_Her eyes were red, marks under them._

"It is."

"Maho?" My mind was stuck in a loop of stupidity, of incomprehension.

"Yes," she made a small smile, "I'm still Maho. Just like I was ten seconds ago."

"Ah."

"Can I come in?"

_She put her plump bottom lip up between her teeth, chewed it. It looked sore. Like it had been chewed a lot._

"Uh. Oh, yes, yes. Gomen, gomen…"

I stepped aside and slid the door wide. She entered. I slid the door back.

Open. Close. Rattle. Clunk. Ten thousand normal days.

Until this one.

She kicked off her shoes. I offered her a spare pair of slippers. I noticed she was bare-legged, no thigh socks. She looked so different without them. Guiltily I stopped looking at her legs.

"Uh, come in, come in. Sit down. Drink? Tea? Something cold?"

"Tea would be nice."

"Go in the library then. Sit at the kotatsu. I'll be in in a minute."

I went into the kitchen, got cups and the teapot from the cupboard. Turned to the sink.

"Oh!"

She was right behind me. Really close.

"Gomen! You surprised me."

I backed off.

"Gomen," she muttered, "I'll just hang about in here while you make it, if that's okay."

"Sure, whatever."

I made tea. Got some cake. I took a sly nibble. Two days old. Oh well, it would have to do. I cut two slices, put plates on a tray.

Normal, so normal. Normal days. Abnormally ending. Changing.

Above the tray on the side, on the wall was the calendar. I tore yesterday off. It solemnly informed me in big red numerals that today was Monday the twenty-sixth of September 1995. It had Chinese proverbs on it. Today's little random gem of wisdom informed me "If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the time you'll stop."

I smiled at the uselessness of Chinese proverbs. I'm not the gambling type. Below the calendar it had a little plastic tray in which a red pen lived. I picked up the pen and by the date I wrote a small letter 'M' and circled it.

_Maho came today. Today was the day Maho came for tea._

I picked up the tray and turned. She was by the tall window. Looking at time passing. I stared at her back. The red sun was doing that thing again, with her hair, colouring it. And her bare legs, smooth skin lit by warm tones.

_Stop it Sakana, put your perverted mind away._

"Can we go out?"

"What?"

"I want to go out, go walking. Will you come with me?"

"Uh, don't you want tea?"

She turned.

"Tea?"

"Yes. Tea. I just made some."

Her eyes flickered to the tray in my hands and a look fluttered over her face as if she was seeing it for the first time.

"Oh, you made tea! You shouldn't have."

"You asked me to."

"I'd rather go walking. Kitazaki Park isn't far."

She turned back to the window.

_No matter, for you, I'll do anything._

I put the tray back down.

"Come on then, it's only ten minutes."

We went out. She in a daze, me in a cloak of puzzlement and worry. She wasn't right at all, this forgetful zombie wasn't Maho.

Down hot streets along baking concrete pathways we went, the trees and shrubs dull and limp at the end of summer. Cats dozed, even the nasty yappy little dog in the garden of the corner house wasn't yappy today. Too hot for the poor little beast.

We walked in silence. I glanced at her from time to time but she stared at the ground. We reached the park. In the middle was a large fountain, about thirty feet across with jets of water foaming and bubbling. A circular path went around the fountain with benches at intervals at its perimeter. Behind the benches a screen of tall shrubs with paths radiating out in six directions. It was a nice place. I came here often. Maho went slowly to a bench and sat. I sat too, next to her but leaving a respectable slice of space between us.

For a while we watched the fountain and the sky reddening, purpling. Birds flew over, going home to roost. Day became evening. Evening started towards dusk. I looked at my hands, fiddled silently. I couldn't think of anything to say.

"He's leaving."

She was staring at the tumbling water.

"Who?" I asked although I already knew. She'd already told me.

"Takashi. He's going to America."

She lifted her hand. I noticed she still bit her fingernails. She slid two fingers up into her hair and pushed it back behind her ear. That perfect ear, its top curve slightly pointed, came into view. How much I wanted to kiss it, press my mouth to it, my tongue into it, tell it I loved it. Tell it how much I cared, how much I ached.

"How long for?"

She seemed to be having the conversation for the first time. I wasn't. _Three years._

"Three years."

"And at the end of it, he'll come back, like your prince and marry you."

"Three years, Kanahrin. Three years."

"Just think about the end of it though, when he comes back."

"Hm…"

"What are you going to do until then?"

"He knew weeks ago. Months ago. He applied for the research post back in May. He said he didn't know if he'd get it so he never told me. Didn't want to worry me. Then this thing with my mom came up and he decided to see what came out of that. So he only told me at the weekend."

"He does love you, you know. To keep it from you, so you wouldn't be unhappy for ages before he went, I think that's what I'd do."

"He deceived me." She still stared at the water as though in a trance.

"He did not! Don't say that. He was being kind."

"Hm."

"So, what will you do?"

_Leave him. Run to me. Love me._

"Wait."

"Good girl," I swallowed, my heart wanted to be in my mouth. I let out a small sigh, "You'll go visit him won't you?"

"Maybe. It's expensive though. I'm not sure dad will pay. He and mom might think I'll do something rude with him. So maybe they won't let me go."

"They trust you surely?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. Everything's falling to bits."

She leaned back on the bench and folded her arms, pressed her chin down on her chest and looked unhappy. She stuck her legs out straight and crossed her ankles. She had a scratch on her shin. It looked deep and there was a little dried blood there. A couple of other scrapes. How had she done that? Running? Falling?

"Your leg. It's bleeding."

She looked down at it as though it were a piece of litter someone had dropped.

"Hm. On dad's rose bushes. When I ran out."

"It needs cleaning. And a plaster."

"I'm sure you'll love to do that for me later."

"I can control myself you know. Putting a plaster on you won't make me want to tear your clothes off."

"I'm sorry. I'm being horrible to you while you're so kind."

"It's alright. When's he going?"

"Straight away. Next month. The beginning of next… m-month…"

I saw her shoulders start to shake and a crazy part of me thought she was laughing. Because a crying Maho was still alien to me. She put one hand up to her face, covering her eyes and the tears came again.

Doing the only thing I could, I turned, reached for her and pulling her shoulders up held her against me as she cried.

- - - oOo - - -

It had grown dark and the tears had stopped. It was almost silent now. The fountain had been switched off at dusk. The cicadas were growing quiet and only the distant murmur of traffic on the Kawasaki freeway disturbed the approaching night.

"It's getting late," I observed, "We should go. I'll walk you home."

"I'd like that tea now."

"It's late."

"Onegai… I'd like to stay a bit longer."

"Alright. But let's get back."

We returned in silence. We seemed to be able to talk or walk but not both together. When we were still I could hold her, try and calm her with words or my body's warmth. When we walked I kept my distance, not touching her with my voice or my hands.

We got in and again she hovered around me while I disposed of the stale cold tea and made fresh. I carried the tray to the library and as though a dog on a lead she meekly followed.

I turned on only the side lamp, father's old reading lamp and slid the shouji open. I was embarrassed by my garden. It was a mess, full of weeds. My saving grace was that in the dark she couldn't see the jungle although the scent of bitter grasses rather than the sweetness of bougainvillea gave me away.

We knelt and drank tea.

"He flies out on the third."

"Next Monday? So soon?"

"Hm."

"You'll have one last weekend with him then."

"No, my parents are visiting my aunt in Nagoya. They insist on taking me with them. I think they think I'll be tempted without them around in the house."

"I'm sure that's not true." A thought came to me. "You wouldn't be would you?"

"Tempted?"

"Yes."

"Yes. Of course I'm tempted. He's gorgeous. I've wanted him for ages, weeks and weeks. I'm desperate for him. That's why… that's why this news is crushing me. I don't know how I'll cope."

_Have me instead. As often as you like. Please have me._

"His research grant and visa run until February 1998."

"That's not three years."

"Well two and a half, as if that makes a difference. I'll be nineteen the following April. An adult."

"You'll be a teenage bride then. Something to look forward to."

She turned and looked at me, a weak smile on her lips.

"I know you mean well, Kanahrin. Arigato, you're very kind to cheer me up. But please, you don't have to."

"No but I want to."

"I know. But you're wasting your time. I feel like shit. My life is shit and right now I want to just wallow in it, so… Onegai, just shut up will you?"

We sat quietly for a time. I fiddled with my cake fork.

"Maho, it's late. You should be getting back."

She put down her cup.

"Can I stay?"

I looked at her.

_What? Stay? With me?_

"To sleep?"

"No. I want an all-nighter of physics homework."

I smiled.

"It's good to hear you joke. Things can't be so bad."

"Well, I haven't considered killing myself so no, things aren't too bad."

"Please don't joke about that."

"Gomen."

"Yes. Of course you can stay. I'll get the physics textbooks out."

She chuckled.

"Stop it. I'm not in the mood."

"You laughed."

"I did. I didn't want to though. I'm trying to be miserable here."

"And I'm spoiling it?"

"Yeah, get lost and let me stew."

"No. Shan't."

"I might go then. That'll upset you won't it?"

She gave me a wicked smile.

"Please stay."

"I thought you'd want me to."

"Do you want to phone your parents?"

She sighed.

"Not really. But I suppose I'd better."

- - - oOo - - -

I cleared the tea things away and washed up. I put away my books and school bag, no homework would get done tonight. I stuck my head round the library door.

"Maho, I'm going to run a bath. Do you want one?"

She was at the screens watching the night.

"Your garden looks like I feel," she muttered.

"Uh, yeah. I just don't have the time to tidy it. My sis sends a guy round once in a while to cut it back, cut the grass."

"Well he's not doing his job. It looks like shit."

"Arigato, I love having polite guests to stay. You're very welcome."

"Nice try but you can't force me to laugh."

"Bath?"

"Hm? No thanks, I really can't be bothered right now. Can I shower in the morning?"

"Sure."

_I'll soap you…_

"Can I sleep in here? Shit girl in a shit situation near the shit garden?"

"If you like. But please don't talk like that."

"You're saying your garden isn't like shit?"

"_You're_ not, and you have to be positive about things. It's not the end of the world. He _is_ coming back."

"Lots of beautiful women in New York," she told the dark garden, "beautiful big breasts, bigger than mine. He's a normal guy. He's bound to…"

"Maho! Will you stop it? You're making me cross. He's in love with _you. _Do you really think breast size has anything at all on this planet to do with his love?"

"Gomen. I'll shut up. I'm getting boring."

I went and got a futon and a pillow and sheet from the cupboard. It was a hot night, she wouldn't need a blanket.

"Do you have something I could borrow to sleep in?"

_My arms._

"Uh… Uh, yeah," embarrassment, "I have a pair of pyjamas I only use when traveling. They should fit you."

"Hm, we're pretty close in size."

"I never got a good look."

"You should have. You missed your chance there. It's not every day I get my chest out in school."

I smiled.

"Maybe next time."

She looked at me in a funny way.

"Yeah. Maybe."

I ran the bath, fussed around. Made my own bed.

Maho was sleeping in my house.

Just me and her. Alone.

No-one else.

You'll understand how I was feeling. Everything about me was on edge.

I went down the hallway, the library door was still open. I looked in.

She was still standing looking out at the garden.

"Maho, I'm going to have my bath now, then get some sleep. You should too."

"Hm."

"Onegai? You need the rest."

"Yes, mom."

I sighed.

"Oyasumi nasai."(1)

"Sweet dreams."

"And you. You know where the kitchen is. Help yourself if you're thirsty or peckish."

"Hm."

I slid the library door over.

I washed my hair, soaped myself, rinsed and got in.

I lay there, thinking, thinking. As I do.

I imagined her undressing, wearing my clothes, laying down.

Her clothing, her underwear on the floor beside her bed.

I shook my head and tried to drive the thoughts away. She was upset, very upset. Lonely, vulnerable. This was not the time.

- - - oOo - - -

I lay in bed, naked. I never wear night clothes unless at someone else's house, or sometimes when traveling. It was too hot anyway, the sheet was down to my hips and my feet stuck out the bottom. Nice and cool. On some hot nights I didn't even bother with a sheet.

Sleep was a long time coming. I listened to the house ticking and creaking and settling as the heat radiated out of it. Somewhere a dog was barking.

It was a long while after I'd gone to bed when Maho did. The light came on in the hallway and I heard the water running next door in the bathroom. I imagined her perhaps washing her face, her hands and wrists, brushing her teeth and her hair. A crazy hot part of me imagined she'd asked for the pyjamas out of politeness but she hadn't bothered with them and was naked in the next room. I groaned and turned over.

Enough! Go to sleep!

- - - oOo - - -

It was deep in the night. That cool heart of darkness right in the early hours when the world is silent and heavy and if you wake everything is strange and blue and furry and puzzling because your brain is still mostly switched off.

I didn't really wake up. I did a bit, enough to remember but not completely.

But enough. Enough so this memory, this precious moment has stayed with me.

I rolled over from my side onto my back. Something woke me, some noise or some movement. Some presence.

When you wake in the night it's confusing. This was confusing because I live alone and sleep alone.

Someone was in the doorway. My screen was slid back and someone was there. Watching.

I put my arm up to my eyes and rubbed.

"Dad?"

He didn't move. It must be him. He would often rise in the night, use the bathroom and then just check on us kids to make sure we were okay.

" 'M alright dad. Go sleep…"

I rolled back over onto my right side. It was cool. I pulled the sheet up to my chest.

"Sakana?" he called softly from the hallway, "Sakana?"

"Hm? Wha?"

"I can't sleep."

" 'Kay. Night."

I wasn't all there. He'd been dead five years after all.

"Can I come in with you?"

"Wha?"

"I can't sleep," he said again, from the doorway, "can I?"

"Sure."

He padded into the room and slid the screen closed. I felt the futon behind me move as a body pressed down onto it. I began to drift away again.

"Sakana?"

"Yes?"

"Gomen, I woke you."

"No worries…"

"Can I?"

"Hm?"

Am arm touched my back. It slid down to my waist and then came around me.

"Onegai. I need a cuddle."

The arm pressed tighter and the palm of the hand flattened and cupped my stomach. Against my back dad pressed up close. He was smaller and softer and smelled of Maho much more than I remembered.

I opened my eyes.

I knew who this was…

I was suddenly awake.

The warm body behind me wiggled in close and lay still.

My heart was bumping against my ribs. Ba-dump, ba-dump, it went. Just like in a manga. Adrenaline was flowing.

Arpegè perfume. I relaxed back against the warmth behind me. The shape of her cupped me, her front to my back, her knees came up under my bottom.

"Hold my hand," she almost pleaded.

My left arm was up near my face. I moved it down so it lay along my side and put my hand over hers. Hers turned and met mine. She squeezed me. Our fingers laced together.

I sighed with relief – she was wearing my pyjamas.

I turned my head a little.

"My mom used to say that if two people sleep holding hands, they'll dream the same dream."

It was quiet for a moment, then her breath tickled my neck.

"Kanahrin, please don't have nightmares."

I smiled and squeezed her hand tighter.

"Holding your hand? I don't think so."

"Arigato."

"Go to sleep."

She snuggled as close in as she could.

"Yes, mom."

I lay awake for a long time after her steady breathing told me she'd gone. I lay there wondering and dreaming and thinking and imagining. I tried to calm myself by breathing deeply and slowly but sleep wouldn't come. I think I wanted to stay awake, just to experience this, just to feel her warmth and softness, hold her hand, smell her and feel her cool breath on my ear.

The sheet was down to my waist again. It was even warmer with two of us so close. In the darkness I lifted her hand in mine. I could just make out her paler skin against my own. I brought her hand up, mine holding the back of it. I placed it on me, placed it over myself where I curve and am softest. I squeezed her hand against me and felt my heart bumping through her hand.

I drew in a big breath and let it out.

I closed my eyes.

Peace.

This time sleep came.

- - - oOo - - -

_14 – 15 August 2007 _

_(1) Oyasumi nasai - good night (the 'nasai' makes it more polite)_

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty One, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	62. Rain Girl

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

_- this is for Lauren, who loves the rain -_

**Chapter Sixty Two – Rain Girl **

_The journey is the reward. _

_- Chinese proverb._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

_I need you so much closer.  
I need you so much closer. _

_So come on, come on,  
So come on, come on,  
I need you so much closer. _

_- Death Cab for Cutie, Transatlanticism _

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

She wasn't there. Like a dream she had come in the night and almost beyond remembering, in the morning like a dream she was gone.

I threw on my green satin kimono and padded around the house, hopeful, looking and gently calling but no. I was alone. In the kitchen was a note.

__

**_Arigato. I thought it would be easier for you if I left early. Gomen.  
I borrowed a school shirt from you. And some underwear and socks.  
I will return them washed.  
I won't be at school today - can't face it - gonna do a sickie.  
Talk to you tomorrow.  
And again, arigato, arigato, you were just what I needed. _**

**_Maho  
X_**

**_P.S. shirt's tight - I'm bigger than you after all!_**

There was a dirty cereal bowl and a spoon in the sink, a glass with a ring of orange juice around the bottom. On the rim was a hint of a mark of her lips. 

I touched my own there.

Still dreaming I went back to my room and looked in my underwear drawer, trying to decide what was missing. The white set that was very sheer. One of my favourites. You cow.

Ah, well, now it would _definitely_ be my favourite.

_You know, if you don't want to, no need to wash them…_

I pushed away such rude thoughts and looked at my futon. Sinking down to my knees onto it I picked up the pillow and pressed it to my face.

It hadn't been a dream. I breathed in her scent.

_Maho._

_Arigato._

_Come again, any time. You are welcome. You are welcome my angel. Come to this house whenever you wish. Take anything, my tea, my cereals, my clothes, my time, my bed. My heart. Take it all my love, take it all._

In a delicious daze I washed and dressed and ate and drifted out the door and across a town that seemed filled with new colours and smells and smiling people I'd never met before.

- - - oOo - - -

I hardly noticed Tuesday. School seemed empty and irrelevant without her.

It bothered me how quickly and suddenly my life had begun to hinge around the thought of 'her' again. I had fixated passionately on her in the late spring and then had gone through a period of weeks when that sharp pain of wanting-yet-not-having had eased a little. In the summer Asapin had provided the distraction I needed, but now a few odd things in the run-up to the culture fest and during the play had focused my mind on her again. And now this week; the trauma of Monday, the wonder of Monday night. She was coming back, pushing my infatuation with Asapin's body and indecent treatment of me aside.

I was a sail boat, puny in the storm, blown by the wind, first one way, then the other. I seemed hardly able to steer my own course.

I had swimming club after school which helped. Being in water was fast becoming my main prop. A good hard swim kept me sane.

The weather began to turn. It was still warm but oppressive now and clouds were in the south building and threatening. The afternoon and evening were moist and heavy. Walking home I became sweaty and uncomfortable and got a headache.

I got in, had a glass of water and swallowed some aspirin. I slid open several shouji but it had no effect, the warm wet air lay thick over the whole house, still and dull. I stripped off completely, had a cool shower and wearing just a towel ate and halfheartedly did my history essay. I wasn't in the mood for the Declining Function and Role of the Samurai Class in the Meiji Era but I spewed out a bunch of half formed thoughts and some ill presented arguments and called it a day.

I dropped the towel and padded naked around the house, remembering how it felt with her in it. The sounds of her presence; the clink of a teacup, the running water in a nearby room. How beautiful a simple bowl and spoon were after she'd used them. I tidied away her futon, hugged her sheet against myself. Faint hints of her remained, I went from space to space in my small domain chasing feelings. In the darkness of the library I stood at the open screens and looked at my jungle garden. The air bruised sluggishly against my hot body. I put my hand on myself low down, touched and touched again, slowly, gently. I thought of her. Of her hand on my breast (to remind me I put my own there, my mind making it hers), her breath on my neck, her eyes, her voice creamy and caressing… her slim fingers, those lovely nails bitten yet still perfect.

Maho…

_Oh, Maho…!_

_My love._

I finished, folded down on the floor, thighs squeezed together on my hand, guilty yet happy.

If only…

One day, if only…

You could…

Take me, take me there.

- - - oOo - - -

Wednesday.

_Today I'll see here. I'll see her again…_

She was in class at her desk.

"Ohi!"

"Domo," she looked up, there was a lovely spark of friendship in her eyes, "Alright?"

"Of course. Arigato."

"What for? I should be thanking you. Oh, yeah, I get it, no need to spell it out."

"Not that. I'm just so pleased you came to me, that I could be of help."

"Shut up, you're embarrassing me."

"Come again, any time."

"Hm, I can imagine you'd like that. Oh, and I think in cup size we're spot on, but my back is a little wider, it's a bit tight."

"You're wearing my stuff today?"

"Hm."

_Why? You were at home yesterday. Why not change to yours?_

I began to ask that very question but something made me trap the query even as it began to form. A thought had come to me, a reason why. I held that thought in and wondered, if it were true, what it might mean.

_She's wearing my things… because she __likes__ to?_

A moment of faintness like a wave of fever came over me. I changed track quickly.

"I'll massage away the red marks then."

"Uh… ok-ay…" she edged away theatrically.

I smiled at her discomfort.

"And my panties?"

"Lovely. Very comfortable. You've got great style. Want to see them?"

"Don't tempt me. And anyway you don't have the balls!"

"You're right there, I don't. Which is lucky, because if I did, they'd be a lot less comfortable."

I blushed.

"Stop it! You're as bad as Asapin."

"I thought you'd be glad."

"That you don't have balls? It would've been a serious miscalculation on my part if you had."

I grinned, she laughed. It was good to see that. It was lovely to see her laugh at any time, but this morning it was heavenly. After Monday I was glad.

"But, gomen. I took too many liberties with your hospitality."

"Not at all. Come round earlier next time and I'll do you dinner."

She smiled again.

"Alright, it's a deal."

The sensei came in. Classes started. Reluctantly I returned to my seat.

The day went on, at lunchtime I stayed in, and the gang arrived, all of them, even Asapin, Arima and Tonami turned up later, Yukino dragging them in like so many prize bulls.

"Hey now," Tsubaki shouted, "the Maryland Project may be dead but Yukino is building up her own Stud Farm nicely."

"If you were a real woman and not some boy in a skirt you could have a man too," Yukino shot right back, quick as a flash.

"Ooh, Bitch Battle everybody, gather round," said Aya leaning back and crunching an apple.

"Me? Having to go round with some whiney husband on my arm all the time? No thanks. I'm going to stay single and have some fun."

"Two-one to Tsubaki!" I chimed.

"Yeah, like any guy would even notice you with us real women around." Maho had joined in.

"Ah, a three-way contest now, it's the pretty girls versus the boys in skirts," Aya picked up a celery stick and did a commentator with a microphone thing.

"Huh, you can talk, you grave robber," Tsubaki rounded on Maho, "When does your old man start drawing his pension then?"

"Ooh, that one from Sakura was a bit below the belt. Not that that will worry Maho the Magnificent," Aya darted over to Maho and held the microphone in front of her, "lets hear her rebuttal to that!"

"Not until I've worn him out through over use. Not that you'd understand."

_Oh yeah, this was good._

Even Aya looked shocked.

"You? Doing it already? Don't make me laugh."

"No need, the boys'll be doing the laughing when you take your bra off."

"Bitch."

I looked at the three boys, their heads turning now this way, now that, like watching tennis. Arima in the middle going redder and redder, Tonami simply looking stunned. Did they even have Bitch Battles in Okinawa?

"Maho wins round one!"

"Did I say 'bitch'?" Tsubaki looked puzzled.

"You certainly did, Sakura Flat Chest. So," Aya danced over, thrust the celery in her face, "how does it feel to be a complete loser?"

"Watch it, you. I might shove that mike so far up you you'll look like a Pocky."

"Inspiring words of wisdom there from our losing contestant."

Yukino came up to her.

"She's just upset because she doesn't even need to wear a bra."

"Ow!" even I felt that.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you, A-cup Lady!"

"At least I have a cup size!"

"Miyazawa."

"But you and Maho can't play volleyball. You'd be flopping about all over the place. Practically bruising your knees."

"Who'd want to jump about in some stupid boy game anyway?"

"Miyazawa."

"_I_ have a choice," Tsubaki stuck a finger in Yukino's face, "_I'm_ fit. You wheezing old invalids with your spare chins wouldn't stand a chance."

"I don't have any spare chins, I get all the workouts I need in bed."

"_Miyazawa!_"

We all looked at Arima. He was the colour of a beetroot.

"I think that's enough, let's go outside."

Yukino went out with him.

"Outside? But it's raining," Rika observed sweetly.

"Well I think with A-Cup Lady being withdrawn in the second round by her coach, Mr. Dull-Husband, we seem to have a draw on our hands. Unless Maho the Magnificent intends to continue the fight. Maho?"

"No, I'll stop there. I'd continue the battle of wits with Tsubaki alone but I don't think it's fair to fight an unarmed girl."

I put my head back and laughed at the ceiling. Wow, wit. And a sharp tongue. Aya chuckled too and Tonami and Asapin were grinning. Even Tsubasa stopped chewing for at least two seconds so it must have been funny.

"And I think that, ladies and gentlemen, is game set and match to Maho."

Even Rika was smiling. Maho bowed. Tsubaki blew a raspberry.

"Anyone got any cookies they don't want?"

Tsubasa had demolished her lunch and part of Tsubaki's and looked around hopefully. Aya went over to her.

"And now a word from Sakura Flat Chest's team mascot: What's it like living with a boy in a skirt and eating everything that isn't nailed down?"

Aya stuck the mike under Tsubasa's chin. The demon dwarf bit the end off, chewed contentedly for a moment.

"Huh, that's not a cookie."

She frowned at Aya.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, that seems to conclude our coverage of tonight's match, so it's over to you Gendo, and the latest on Electric Slug Wrestling in our studio."

Aya polished off the microphone.

I looked at Tsubasa. Hidden away in that frighteningly empty head even she had a sense of humour.

"Well, we'll leave it there," said Tsubaki, "Anyway, it's only funny while Arima is here to wind up."

"Yeah," Maho added, "he went a pretty good colour though today. I'm sure one day we'll get him to have a heart attack."

"Yeah we did pretty good on the old Blushometer today."

"You guys are strange," Tonami observed.

"_I get all the workouts I need in bed_? Is that what she said?" Aya was looking bemused.

"Yep, that's what the lady said," Tsubaki was grinning, now she had some really good ammunition, "I guess we have our answer now on what Arima and Yukinon did in their summer holidays."

"That sounds like an essay title," I added.

" 'Arima and Miyazawa Did It At Least Twice a Week During The Whole of August. Discuss'. You want to write one?" Aya asked me.

"No, I think that's your department," I turned and looked at Asapin, "Hey, you're a good artist, why don't you and Aya write a doujin? Get it circulated around school?"(1)

"Oh my God, that _would_ give Arima a heart attack!" Maho had a nasty grin on her face as though the concept had real merit. "It gives a whole new meaning to the title Head Girl."

Silence. You could've heard a pin drop.

Rika cleared her throat.

"Yes, well, anyway…" Aya said.

"Well, I'm going to take a walk outside, get some air."

I got up, cleared away my lunch.

"I'll come with you."

I glanced at Maho, she was watching me. She smiled again.

She was smiling a lot today. I wondered, since we'd met in June, and I'd promised to get a smile out of her each time we met… I wondered how my score was doing, on average.

As we went out I had this sensation of everyone behind us sharing knowing looks.

- - - oOo - - -

"Er, that got a bit close to the knuckle."

"Yeah. I thought it was time to quit while I was ahead."

"Bit late for that I think."

"Hm."

"Walk or talk?" I asked her.

"Talk."

"Roof then?"

"Yeah."

It wasn't raining but it was overcast and threatened it. Big heavy cumulous were gathering in the south and it was warm and clammy. There was going to be a humdinger of a storm later.

A few people were up there and since there was no sun today we didn't need our shady spot. We went to the railing and leaned over. The view from the roof was wonderful. To the east you could see down towards Kawasaki and Tokyo Bay, to the north the hazy towers of Shinjuku and Shibuya and in the west the endless suburbs of south Tokyo and the distant green bumps of the Tama Hills. We faced the hills.

"How are you feeling?"

"Kind of messy. Hollow. Achy. I just feel like it's not really happening, like this might be a dream. I'm done with crying now, that's not my scene."

"Crying's good for you."

"It's not. It's horrible. It's embarrassing and it makes me feel vulnerable."

"It gets rid of tension and negative feelings. It's a great release, a healer. If you don't cry the poison that's trapped inside gets no release. It just sits in your gut and screws you up. Trust me, I'm an expert."

She looked at me.

"For you maybe, for others perhaps. Not for me. It makes me feel weak. I don't like being weak. I'm not weak."

She turned her back to the railing and leaned on it, her arms folded under her bust, ankles crossed. I stayed leaning out over the railing. I looked askance at her. I smiled.

She looked back. Disdain was written there, in her eyes.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," my smile broadened, "Just you. The pose you strike. The Woman Who Won't Be Touched."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at you there behind your defensive wall. Nothing and no-one will get close to you and know you."

She snorted.

"Are you like this with Takashi?"

"No. Our relationship is quite different. I'm very much the junior partner, the follower. He leads. I'm quite open and innocent. It's funny, with him I'm not like I am at all at school. At school I feel this easy sense of superiority over those around me. I just have that from middle school when I was top dog all the time. I'm not arrogant, I'm just comfortable with it. With you, and Yukinon and Tsubaki. I'm happy asserting myself. With him…" she smiled a little, a rather wistful sad smile, "with him I'm putty in his hands. Vulnerable all the time I suppose. I'm very lucky, I trust him implicitly. That he never took advantage of me is amazing really, he could have done so many times, had me dozens of times. He never did."

"Respect," I looked over at distant Tama, a small orange airship was droning away over there bright against the grey.

"How so?"

"He respects you. Any normal earthy guy would take advantage. That he didn't means he has a lot of self-control. A lot of love. And respect," I turned to face her.

I wondered why I was saying this, why was I reinforcing him in her eyes instead of dismantling him? It would have been easy to be critical of Takashi right now, to exploit my position, to drive a wedge of distrust between Maho and him and prise her away from him. And into my arms. I felt that she might only need a couple of good hard pulls to be broken free. That I didn't both surprised me and I found it strangely comforting, at the time I didn't know why.

"I don't think many guys would have acted as he has, especially being so obedient to your parents. By obeying them he's sending you a message too, telling you he's trustworthy, committed, reliable, loving. You know, I think you might have come across the perfect man. Women have been searching for him for centuries. You might have found him."

She was silent, studying her feet.

"Yeah," she mused, her eyes on her slippers but not seeing them, not seeing anything, "He's a great guy I guess. I should be thankful."

"He'll come back. If he never intended to return he would've taken advantage of you any time in this last month."

"God. I'd have let him too. But I think you're right."

"And when he _does_ come back," I leaned over to her and put a hand on her arm above the elbow, "You give him a damn good reason never to go away again, hm?"

And I squeezed.

I was signing away my life, my future happiness. I felt almost like a father giving away his daughter as a bride.

_Be my bride. And I'll be yours._

Yet I felt a sense of satisfaction, of doing the right thing. Giving her away to him was better than keeping her for myself. He could give her so much more. A better life, a better home, more security, a purer, less-selfish love.

Its how it works in fairy tales isn't it?

In all the best love triangles. If you truly love someone, their happiness matters most. Let them go.

Let her go.

You'll have her, enjoy her for the rest of your school time. That was a long time. And after that she would finally find rest and be happy.

And me?

I turned away again and squeezed my eyes shut. Crying was fine I guess, but not now, in front of her. I sniffed and opened my eyes. The orange blimp was nearer, it swam and blurred underwater. _Damn._

A hand come onto my hand where it gripped the rail.

"You okay?"

"No."

"What is it?"

"You."

I turned to her and the tears flowed, like they always do. They poured out. Rivers of me. I'm useless at this, heart on my sleeve.

And then I was against her again, pressing hard and holding tight and her arms came around me and pulled me in tighter, squeezing. And the bitter burning heat of tears came welling up and I sobbed. I sobbed and sobbed.

I wanted her so much, so much. So very much.

And I'd never have her.

She had a life all mapped out.

Study hard. Marry. Go to medical school. Get degree. Become a neurosurgeon. Have success. Be happy.

I had a life that seemed pointless.

Study. Swim. Swim hard. Hug a burning hopeless love inside me. Maybe the Olympics. And then?

I didn't want to think about the And Then. The And Then had no Maho in it and I couldn't go there.

The sobs became harder and hotter and my throat blocked up with emotion.

"Go-Gomen… G-Go…"

"Shush… it's alright. Cry if you want to… you're the expert. And it's your own shirt you're ruining."

I laughed, a choked up laugh-sob that hurt as much as her words helped.

I pressed my face into her warmth, her neck. How sweet she smelled, how soft she was, nothing like Asapin. Everything was different. Her size, her shape, her presence.

Her presence. In my arms.

Before I knew what I was doing my lips were against her neck. I opened them. Kissed.

She froze. Her whole body went taut. I could sense the panic at once, the fear, the apprehension.

I lifted my mouth away and stared stupidly at the soft pale place it had been. I couldn't help it, my whole mind was filled with her.

"Gomen…"

I stood up and pushed her away a little. I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Gomen… you don't want that."

"I guess it's all acting isn't it?" she said in a funny voice, distant, "On stage in front of an audience. Up here in front of the world. We all play a role Kana… I can play at holding you if you like. I can do that. And you can play at loving me."

I couldn't move. My hands were shaking. I slid my fingers along her shoulder. I didn't understand and I couldn't meet her gaze in case what was in there wasn't what I hoped.

"I'm not playing, Mahorin. I'm not acting."

"I know. And, you need to know," she continued, her breaths brushing my forehead, "I'm not so hot with the acting thing. I can't play at loving. At loving you. Do you understand?"

I stared down. The whiteness of my own shirt that she wore was all I saw. The left shoulder of it where my weeping eyes had shed hopeless tears was transparent it was so wet. What was she saying? I didn't understand.

"Do you? Understand?"

I lifted my head, with a clumsy hand I wiped my eyes. I sniffed back the annoying embarrassing wetness in my nose. I shook my head. But still I couldn't meet that gaze.

"Perhaps I don't want to understand."

"Baka. That's silly. If we don't understand each other we both just get confused and hurt. Like me with Takashi. I thought until recently that there was a certain shape to our future. It involved me moving in with him and giving myself to him and when I finished school it involved marriage. And now I'm in this mess because his plans and mine were different and we didn't make things clear to each other. We didn't understand each other."

I nodded a little. This I could follow. I didn't like the tone of what she was saying, it seemed ominous but I could at least understand.

"So. You love me. I understand that. But me? Well you know what will happen in three years time. I love him, Sakana, he's my life. I want that. I want that as much as you want me. Please don't try and get me to relinquish that. I need you to understand that. It has to be clear between us."

"Yes."

I looked down again. I still couldn't meet those eyes. They were too beautiful, too clear and looked into me too deeply. If I looked at them I knew I'd just cry again.

"But. I can be your friend. Between now and then. We can be friends. Close friends. I can hold you, I can sooth you when you hurt. I can help you. That stupid garden of yours. It actually annoys me. I'm itching to get my hands on that."

"You are?"

"Hm. Get rid of that useless gardener. I'll do it."

"Really?"

"Hm, really."

"Oh."

"But when he comes back and we marry… I hope we're friends for life you and me but when he returns it must change. I'll have to stop tending your garden. And until then we have to have rules. Don't we?"

"Yes."

I was almost whispering now.

"First rule. Kanahrin, look at me, this is important."

With a heavy heart I raised my head again. Those cool calm serious dark eyes. Oh, how I could just stand there and look at them all day.

"First rule. I'm not like you. You love me. I'm not like that. Please understand. I like being close to you, this is fine. But… Yes?"

"Yes."

"Second rule. I'm a crap actor. I say what I say and do what I do. I'm quite up front and simple. No veils to hide things. No double meanings. No clever acts. I might be in your face more than you'd like. Please try not to be offended if I may seem distant sometimes or quiet or rather harsh. When I want to be quiet I'm quiet and you need to respect my space. It's me. Gomen, but you've got to live with it."

"Can I make a rule?"

"Hm."

"It follows on from yours."

"Go on."

"If your attitude changes, don't hide it. Tell me. If you decide it's no good being my friend you must tell me. I don't want to be hurt by you hanging around if what I do isn't what you want."

"I think my second rule covered that."

"Arigato."

"Third rule. On Wednesdays I don't eat fish. Noodles are fine, meat is fine, and curry. But no fish. Alright?"

I frowned at her.

_What?_

"Gomen, I don't follow."

"Tonight, when I come round for dinner. No fish. Can you handle that?"

And I don't really know what happened next. I had that familiar hard hot lump in my throat again and a gagging boiling gratitude filled me and suddenly tears were threatening once more and all of a sudden there were arms tight around me and there was soft warm neck against my lips once again.

"Maho, yes. I'm happy with the third rule. I can do that."

"It's okay."

"I like your rules. Uh, you can give me rules for the whole weeks menu if you like."

"Now, now. Control yourself, girl. One day at a time."

"Gomen… Um, and this? This hugging stuff? I mean people are looking, are you alright with that?"

"Well we're not going to kiss. There won't be any tongue-wrestling. I personally have no problem with a girl comforting a girl - or a guy comforting a guy come to that. Happens all the time. If those boys behind us have a problem with that that's their issue, I couldn't give a care about what people think of me really. I've caught the Yukino sickness this year. I used to care about image in middle school when I was always head of year but now I just place less value on that."

"That's good."

"Well it's easy for you. Everyone knows you're gay. But a good few people know I have an adult boyfriend so seeing me with you will get people talking."

"But it won't be like that."

"Yeah, you know that, I know that but like I just said, some people are just stupid and make judgments. I have more to lose than you."

"Arigato gozaimasu, I appreciate what you do for me."

"No problem. You cook dinner, I shrug off the bitchy whispering. Deal?"

"Deal."

I smiled at her, she grinned back and nodded.

"But even I have limits. Fourth rule. What I'm not prepared to do is go around with someone who has a great big dangly bit of snot hanging from her nose."

"Oh! Gomen!"

I wiped it away.

- - - oOo - - -

Afternoon school was a strange affair, I couldn't keep my mind on it, I felt detached throughout it. I kept glancing at her but she didn't look up, she merely worked away at her desk, chin in palm as she does, sitting a little behind me.

But the storm came, a real bruiser it was, by three o'clock the air was green and thunder boomed and stamped randomly and maliciously down and the lightning hacked the day to pieces. School work stopped as people watched the storm. By half three the rain came, torrential rain. Stair rods of it, solid wires of it streaming down. We were dismissed half way through last period. Standing in the locker area doorway it felt like you could put your hands out and part the rods of rain, like parting a bead curtain.

You didn't need an umbrella, you needed a wetsuit.

Swimming club was Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. But I often skipped Thursdays. Towards the end of the week and I was usually tired. I also went most Saturday mornings now and I was waiting for the school to organize a professional coach up at Narita for me and then I would go there every other Saturday and there had been talk of me having Wednesday afternoons off school to have a proper long session of private coaching then.

But for the moment Wednesdays were swim-less. I got my bag from the lockers, my umbrella from the rack. She was beside me.

"I normally get the train home but today I want to walk," she said.

"You do? In this?"

"Hm," she smiled at me, "walk with me."

I stared at her.

"We'll get soaked."

"We've your umbrella."

"You don't have one?"

"No."

"Ah," I blushed a little.

"Let's go then."

I stood in the doorway and put my umbrella up, holding it in my left hand, bag on my right shoulder. She came next to me. There is this whole thing in Japan, a romantic thing about two people sharing an umbrella. It's a lovers thing and boys and girls play these games when courting. But now… I recalled a fantasy I'd had that time back before the summer in another storm when I'd been in school late and had seen Yukino and Arima hugging and kissing…

This was my fantasy. Of sharing an umbrella with Maho. My fantasy had come true. She came next to me and put her right arm up and held my left hand. We walked. The rain was intense, it pounded and thundered on the umbrella. The noise was incredible, almost like being in a tin hut, or a drum. I could feel the umbrella vibrate under the relentless blows. In seconds my right shoulder and arm and my bag were soaked, her left also. And our legs up to our knees, the ground was awash and the rain bounced and splashed up. My socks squished in my shoes. We pressed against each other, avoiding the worst of it, our bodies touched all down our sides. I could feel her warmth, her muscles moving as she walked with me, the smell of wet warm clothing, wet hair.

It began to affect me, in the way my fantasy had.

I was confused. If she didn't want a relationship like that, that involved loving and touching, then what was she doing? It was like she was teasing me.

I fretted as we walked. _Please don't tease, that's worse than you being distant._ It took us twenty five minutes to reach her house. The umbrella wasn't really that much use, we were each half soaked.

Her mom was friendly and fussy and buzzed around us, tiny and concerned like a small dog.

"No mom, we wanted to walk. The rain's lovely. No I didn't even think to phone you for a lift. No, mom, it's okay. Really. No, no Sakana isn't staying to eat, I'm going to her place again. She'll cook. No, _really_, we don't need you to drive us over there, it's only fifteen minutes walk. Yes, I will have a bath when we arrive. Stop fussing! Argh! I'm not a child anymore!"

I stood in her entryway dripping gently and a little confused as to what was going on. Maho was acting funny. Yes I liked it but I didn't understand what she was doing.

But never mind, the voice inside me said, this is nice. And she's staying to dinner.

She came out with her school bag again.

"You don't need that." I said.

"Homework. Let's study together. We've got that English grammar to do for Friday and a history essay for tomorrow."

"I did that yesterday."

"Alright clever pants, you can lend me yours then. Easy."

"You can't copy mine, we'll both get a detention."

"I'm not going to copy it. I'll just use it so I know what sort of crap not to write."

"Oh, I see. So did you want dinner or not?"

She looked at me, hands on hips.

"Did you want help with the English grammar or not?"

I wasn't good with English.

"Well, okay then. But I'm doing dinner and giving you my history essay, and you're just doing the English. I seem to be missing out here."

"I don't think so. You get to have me for company remember?"

I went quiet. I'd rather just get to have you… Hm, there was that, yes. And what was she up to? I wasn't sure I liked this teasing Maho. I decided to play it cool.

- - - oOo - - -

We stayed at Maho's house for half an hour but the storm didn't let up. Eventually we just went anyway. We were half soaked so it made little difference.

We pressed together under my umbrella again.

We cut through the park, past the fountain, the water was grey and danced and writhed under the pounding rain.

"Stop a minute," she said.

We did.

"Look."

We looked. We watched the fountain water as it bounced and moved. It didn't look like water, it looked like some kind of animal twitching and jumping. It was fascinating, hypnotic.

"Do you like rain?"

"I don't really know," I answered, "I've never really thought about it. It can give me bad moods and it's messy and cold. I prefer hot sunny days. So, uh, I guess I don't."

"Rain is a symbol."

"A cymbal?"

"Of change."

"Oh, a _symbol_. I thought you were talking percussion instruments."

She laughed.

"Honestly, you are so dim some days."

"Gomen."

"It must be lovely."

"Eh?"

"Being stupid. Your world must be so simple and easy to live in."

"Now you're just being nasty. My world is plenty hard enough thank you."

"Hm. Do you know about rain?"

"Not really."

"It represents change and renewal. Washing, cleansing, spiritual change."

"That's nice. And?"

"Dreaming about rain is interesting too. If you get wet from the rain in your dream it signifies that you'll soon be cleansed from your troubles and problems. Rain symbolizes fertility and renewal as well."

"Oh, is this all that funny Freudian psychology stuff?"

"Don't you agree with funny Freudian psychology?"

"It's all about sex though isn't it? Freud was just a dirty old man."

She laughed again, a sweet chuckling stream she was.

"There's more than one renowned psychologist in the world you know. Lots of them have written about the human mind and our subconscious. I've studied all this, its all to do with the mind, it interests me."

"It's hardly relevant to a brain surgeon."

"Of course it is, the mind has diseases too, dreams are a way to read the mind, detect sickness."

"Don't look at my dreams."

"Why?"

_Ah. Now I've done it. Embarrassment._

"You're in them," I said in a quiet voice.

"I see. Sounds interesting."

"Don't ask me about details."

"Kanahrin, I do believe you're blushing."

"Gomen."

"It's alright. I won't ask. You can tell me one day if you want."

"Hm."

"But rain in dreams, now… To see and hear it falling, that symbolizes forgiveness and grace. To dream that you're watching it from a window, indicates that spiritual ideas and insights are being brought to your awareness. You're learning about yourself maybe. It might also symbolize fortune and love. And to hear rain tapping on the roof, denotes spiritual ideas and blessings coming to mind. It may also suggest that you will receive much joy from your home life."

And she looked up at the underside of my umbrella. The rain drummed on it, pounding and bouncing and dripping. She looked back at me.

"You sound like some of the silly Chinese proverbs on my calendar," I said.

"Rain is good. It's a good symbol in dreams. It's good for plants, and forests, it's good for us, it's our drinking water. It cools and refreshes. It renews, it gives life. It's like one of the few pure spirits there is left in the world now that man is nicely screwing the planet over. It's a powerful spiritual and cleansing symbol. And…"

She suddenly pulled the umbrella from my grip and held it aside. The rain pounded on me.

"It feels wonderful!" she laughed at me.

"Hey! No! Give it back!"

I reached for it, she held it away, turned around, laughing.

"It's not funny! I'm getting soaked!"

Then she ran off, still giggling. I had never heard her laugh so much.

And I had never been so wet outside of a bath before. I'd catch a chill.

"Hey! What _are_ you doing? Give it back!"

"Come and get it!" She ran around the fountain.

I ran after her. The rain smashed over me. It was in my eyes, my mouth, plastering down my hair and gluing my blouse against me. I couldn't see or breathe. And she was too quick, she was a better runner than I. I stopped, she did too on the far side of the fountain. Breathless and gasping and laughing we looked at each other. It was pointless now anyway, I was soaked through. Glancing down I could see my shirt was becoming transparent. The pale blue forget-me-not flower decoration of my bra was showing. And then it happened.

Then the mood changed.

God threw the light switch of my mood. My mind jumped back to Asapin's garden, our naked bodies writhing under the pounding rain, my back arching off the muddy blanket, the feel of it on my skin, the feel of him on me, inside me. His pounding also. It took only seconds for me to change from wet and annoyed and a little cold to being wet and warm and excited. A small warm thing was starting low down inside me, I knew it well, an old friend of mine.

"Alright," I called to her, "You made your point. Rain is nice…"

_very nice_

"…now let's get home before we catch cold."

"_Anta baka_. You can't catch cold from being wet. Colds are from bacteria."(2)

"Whatever, come on, we've still a way to walk."

She came around to me, still wearing that mischievous look. I could put up with being soaked and cold if she would look like that. She was wet through too. Then I noticed she was still wearing my sheer bra. There were two small faint hints of colour under the shirt that plastered to her.

I looked away.

_Don't go there, it's bad enough as it is._

- - - oOo - - -

We got home, drowned as rats. I opened the door and we dripped into the entryway. I was at a loss what to do. I took off my wet shoes and socks, wiped my feet as best I could.

"Stay here, I'll get you a towel."

I went quickly to the bathroom trying to drip as little as possible and came back with two huge fluffy warm bath towels.

"Here"

She took one and began wiping her hair. We stood there in silence for a while toweling the worst off.

"Bath?"

"I think so."

"I'll run it. You go first."

"Arigato."

"Do you want a robe for afterwards or… hm… borrow something of mine?"

"A dress will do. Anything."

I studied her shape.

"I think your hips are a bit bigger than mine."

"Oh arigato! So I have a big arse, well that's so kind of you!"

"And a big head to match, now shut up. I'll just get you pyjamas and a robe for now, we can find something for you to go home in later."

I supplied the clothes and left her to it.

In my room I stripped off, dried myself and put on my kimono then returned to the kitchen. A hot drink was needed. Chocolate maybe. Did I have any? Hm, yes, the dregs of a packet at the back of the cupboard. I put milk on to heat, found mugs.

I sat on a kitchen bar stool and drank mine while Maho bathed. Watching the storm my thoughts kept drifting back to her. In my bath. I put my mug down and did a quick tour of the house checking the rain wasn't getting in. I was worried about storm damage but everything seemed okay. In the library I slid a shouji open and stood watching my garden turn from jungle to swamp. I'm sure I had a platoon of North Vietnamese freedom fighters living in the old thick bamboo grove at the end, it was enough of a mess. Maybe one day a soldier might come out and ask me if the war was over. The rain roared onto the wood shingle roof, making the house boom and throb and seem alive. I watched curtains of it running off the eaves of the porch. I went out onto the boards and stood. The air smelled amazing, crisp and metallic.

"Alright?"

I turned at the voice. She wore my pink cotton pyjamas again. She toweled her hair. I looked at her, wanted her.

"Not wearing the robe?"

"Too warm. I like yours, its a fantastic colour. Where did you get it?"

"Oh just at Yonosuke near Cincinatta in Kawasaki. It was a bit pricey but I deserved it."

"A gift to yourself?"

"Hm, a self-award for improving my swimming."

"Oh, yeah? So how are you getting on with that? You were going to talk to the school about professional coaching weren't you?"

"Yeah…"

And so it went on. We chatted about all sorts of things, just girl stuff. I made her a hot chocolate and we nibbled some biscuits. We dried our soaking bags and retrieved our school work from them and sat at the kotatsu in the library. Then while she got on with her school work I went for my bath.

A half-hour later I came back in. She had worked through most of the English problems but we shared the rest (or rather she did them and I hindered her) and then she looked at my crummy history essay and wrote her own.

"Actually this is quite good. How long did it take?"

"Can't remember. An hour or two."

"Really? Hm. I've not seen this argument used before about the maintenance of social status in rural areas being a positive thing because it propped up the declining farming economy. Where did you get that from?"

"Ah, actually my head."

"Oh. It's good. It makes sense. You might want to dig out some references for it though if you can."

"I'll add a footnote: 'Izawa thinks this makes sense'. Will that do?"

"Yeah that should do it. Kawashima-sensei will be well impressed. Tokyo-U here we come."

She carried on working. I stared out at the rain for a while. It just wasn't letting up. I went to the screens again. The water on what used to be my back lawn wasn't draining well, we were almost an island in a shallow lake. It made me nervous. How much more rain could there be in one sky?

"Alright?" she asked.

"Too much rain. The water's rising."

"It'll be fine."

"Oh?" I turned to her, "You sound confident. Are you an expert on the drainage patterns of the upper western Shin-Maruko catchment area then?"

"No." she smiled at me, and said simply and quietly, "You're here."

I blushed and felt both nice and awkward at the same time.

"More chocolate?"

"Tea would be nice."

"Sure."

I made a pot, took it back in. Knelt at the low table and poured. I passed her a cup and saucer and she laid it carefully aside without looking up. I sipped my drink. She worked. I watched her. For twenty or thirty minutes it was quiet in the house except for the drumming rain, the occasional rumble of distant thunder and the click of her teacup when she set it down. The overcast was heavy and the light was already beginning to fade.

She wrote with an unusual style, her wrist action and the angle of her arm was different to mine and I watched the kanji flowing from her like the rain off my roof, a sure steady relentless river. How wonderful it must be to have a sharp mind like hers that can create essay material so easily. She turned a page, sucked her pen a moment then continued.

I looked up from her hand. The pyjamas were not so loose on her as they were on me, she seemed a little larger all round. I felt guilty. I hadn't washed them. In fact I'd slept with them clutched to my chest last night. They weren't tight but her shoulders filled them out more. Her lovely hair hung down in straight shining lines, a shimmering clean black curtain as intoxicating in the gloom of the room as it was with the sun rainbowing through it. Her jaw line smooth and well defined, her chin a little pointed. I had never even noticed before but she had a tiny dimple on her chin. How could I have missed that?

Her plump bottom lip still looked a little inflamed where she'd been chewing it two days ago. I wanted to kiss it better.

"Enjoying the view?"

I snapped out of the dream. She had looked at me.

"Gomen… I'll make fresh tea."

I stood up in embarrassment and confusion.

"Don't feel awkward. It's nice."

"Me watching you?"

Exposed. Caught in the act. A pervert stalker caught red-handed.

"Hm. And just being here. With you." She looked up, "Skip the tea. I'll be done soon. Do you want to do dinner?"

"Sure."

_Anything. Anything for you. I'll crawl backwards over broken glass to the supermarket for you if you want a paper._

I prepared the meal, chopped and fried an onion, cut two chicken breasts into cubes and browned them, added a curry sauce from a jar (I'm not Asapin, I can't make a curry from scratch okay, so give me a break, huh?). I added more curry paste from a packet to spice it up a little and a dash of Tabasco and some fenugreek. Washed the rice.

What a strange day. The rain made it seem so unreal, like we were cut off on a remote island. And her. The things she said. And did. She seemed to be doing something deliberately, she was far more intimate than I'd expected. What was going on? Maybe this was how she behaved around him? When she relaxed and showed friendship? But it seemed more than that.

I couldn't understand. All I knew was that there was something in the air, something different about her. Something unspokenly hot, teasing. She'd caught me looking at her and said she didn't mind. She'd pressed up against me under the umbrella. I both liked it and didn't. It made me feel vulnerable as though she was playing a game and hadn't told me the rules and anything could change without warning. In that way it filled me with a delicious anticipation. And at the same time I was afraid, nervous, worried that I was picking up all the wrong signals and she'd speak a few words and make me feel like some oversexed misunderstanding fool.

I stirred the curry. I suddenly found that my other hand was cupping my breast and gently kneading it. The peak of it had stiffened. In a rush of guilt and shock I took my hand away. What was I doing? What was I thinking?

"How's it going?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Oh. Ehm, yes. Ready in about fifteen minutes."

_Don't come close. Don't look at me. Don't see me poking through the material of my robe. Don't, don't, don't._

_God, come to me. Stand behind me, press against my bottom, run your arms around me, lift the spoon from my hand and cup me where I'm ready and aching. Tell me you don't want to eat curry. You want to eat me…_

"Are you alright?"

She was right next to me at the work surface. I couldn't meet her gaze. What was wrong with me?

"Yes. Fine. I'm fine."

"Shall we eat in here?"

"No, let's eat in the library. I like it with the screens open."

"Becoming a rain fan, hm?"

"Something like that."

"I'll set the table."

She busied herself collecting chopsticks, mango chutney, my split bamboo place mats, a few other bits. She went silently away.

I couldn't take much more of this.

Either she'd have to leave soon or I'd glomp her. I was loosing control.

- - - oOo - - -

I served up.

"Is this alright? Its just the curry and rice. Gomen, I have no bread or pickles or anything. Not even salad."

"It's fine, don't worry."

She ate.

For twenty seconds it was fine. Then.

"Holy crap! Ow! FUCK!"

"What?"

"Oh my God! Shit! That's hot! What's in there?"

"Is it too hot?"

Ryusaki Sakana wins the 1995 Completely Stupid Question Award.

She ran out to the kitchen, I heard the tap running. I got up and went through.

"Gomen, gomen. Are you alright?"

She was slooshing cold water around her mouth, she spat and drank again.

"Dammit, Kanahrin! Are you trying to kill me?"

"It's just a curry. My usual recipe."

"You _like_ that?"

"Sure, my normal jar. Sis used to make it for us. I'm used to it I guess."

"Holy crap, you're weird. It's like a furnace."

"Gomen. Try adding more rice."

"I'm gonna try adding dry ice. Whoa…"

"Are you okay?"

She was bent over the sink and for some stupid reason I though that rubbing her back would help.

"My back's fine. It's my throat lining. I need to drink your lawn."

"Here."

I got ice from the freezer, she sucked a cube of it.

"When I said curry I meant Japanese curry, you know, mild, fruity."

"Oh, I use an Indian recipe. I like it."

"Obviously."

I picked the empty jar off the side.

"It's a Madras."

"No wonder. Madras is hot. What did you add to it?"

"A spoon of curry paste. Tabasco."

"What curry paste?"

I got the jar from the cupboard. Showed it to Maho.

"This is hot curry paste. This is like pureed chillis. And Tabasco as well?"

"Um, yeah. Did I do wrong?"

"Not really, if it's what your used to. I suppose it's my fault for not asking for a mild one."

"Gomen."

"Don't worry about it. I'll just eat a lot of rice with it."

"I can cook something else, please let me."

"Don't be silly, I can't ask you to make a second dinner. I'll just take it slow."

"It's turning out to be quite an elemental day isn't it? Water and now fire."

"Yeah and this'll probably give me gas too, so it's wind time later."

"Oh, don't, that's gross."

We carried on eating, Maho getting through quite a lot of iced water.

She put her chopsticks down. She'd eaten slowly. I'd finished ages ago but then I don't eat big meals anyway.

"You made it, well done."

"Going back to our rules. I want to change rule three so that Wednesdays I don't have seafood or curry."

"Gomen, forgive me."

"I will. If I live."

After dinner I put some music on, got us iced teas, we sat curled up at opposite ends of my big squishy sofa and chatted. It was lovely. I could do this for a week. We talked about school, various people, various sensei. Then we talked about clothes, music, books. Foreign countries, holidays in Japan such as walking, visiting temples, forests and hot springs.

It was just perfect. A perfect evening. Nothing odd happened, she didn't give me any more strange comments or looks or probe me with bothersome questions.

But the rain rained on, and it grew late.

"You should phone your mom to come and pick you up."

"Hm, I should phone her."

"Don't you want to phone Takashi?"

"He's on late shifts this week which means when he gets in he's dog tired, so he'll be in bed by now. Don't worry I called him at the beginning of lunch break."

"Are you not seeing him this week?"

"Yeah, he comes off lates tomorrow so I'll go see him Friday evening. And I've arranged to get Monday off school. I'm going to see him off at the airport."

"It must be hard for you."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers were twisting together.

"I think I'm resigned to it now, sort of just numb. Maybe Monday night it'll hit me. I dunno."

"You can phone him often though."

"It's not the same though is it?"

I had to agree. If I were in her situation and Maho was going to America for three years I'd probably go ape with crying. I thought about it and felt terrible just imagining it. What must it be like for her? She was bearing up well in the circumstances.

I checked my watch. It was nearly eleven. Where had the evening gone?

"You're leaving it late to phone."

She uncurled herself and got her bag. She pulled out her phone and flipped it open.

I sat listening but politely pretending not to hear. As you do.

"Hi mom, it's me. Not in bed yet? No, okay. Yes. Yes it is. Yes. Right. Well it's not stopping at all. So I'll stay the night. Yes don't worry, I'm fine, it's fine here. Very cosy. Bye. I'll see you after school then. Bye."

She put the phone away and smiled at me again.

"There, that's all sorted."

It was happening again, my heart was bounding in my chest, fluttering.

"You're staying?"

"Is that alright?"

"Yes, yes, sure. It's fine. You're welcome."

She sipped her iced tea. Her eyes looked at me over the rim of her glass. They were dark and wide and frank and held me in place until I thought my heart wouldn't be able to stand it.

"I hope you have a spare uniform I can borrow."

"Yes, sure. I have my spare skirt, a couple more blouses, everything. No tie though."

"I'll go without. Mine's probably ruined, stained."

"Right."

I didn't know what to say, or do.

"Well," she looked at me again, Coasting In Neutral still. How that impossible-to-fathom face annoyed me.

I was helpless. I didn't know what was going on.

"We'd better go to bed," she said as though talking to a pet cat.

"Yes. Do you want to sleep in here again?"

"Yes. I think I'll leave the screen open. The rain is lovely in the dark, mysterious."

"Hm."

"You'll join me won't you?"

"What?"

"Sleep with me tonight. I need you to."

"Maho. Don't do this. You're teasing me. I can't bear it. Don't you know what this is doing to me? All this evening, all the things you've been doing and saying, teasing me. Why? Why?"

She stood up.

"Shush. Where is your bedding? In your room?"

"I'll get it," I made to get up.

She put out a palm to stop me.

"No. I'll get it."

She went. The rain and I stayed.

What was happening? I thought back over the weeks. What she'd done and said in the play, taking my hand there. And the kiss on stage.

What the hell was going on?

Did she like me? Like that? In the way I liked her? How could that be, on the roof earlier she'd said the opposite. My mind rolled over and over in turmoil.

She came back in, dropped the bundle she was carrying. She went over near the screens, moved the kotatsu aside and unrolled the futon there, a few feet in from the porch and the thundering night. She had brought one pillow and one sheet. And an extra blanket in case it got cold in the night.

She turned to me.

"Maho?"

"I expect you're confused?"

"Yes. Why are you like this? Why are you doing this?"

She gave a big sigh, a huge sigh. The sound a heart makes when it's close to breaking.

"Because he's leaving and I'm unhappy and it hurts like hell and I can't bear to be alone. If I sleep alone I won't sleep. His going away is sending me crazy Sakana. I may look cool and strong to you but I'm not. I'm scared to hell. I can't do it. I really can't be alone tonight. If we slept in separate rooms I'd only come to you within an hour anyway, so we may as well do it this way. It's why I didn't go home. Just me and mom at home tonight and big girls don't get in mommy's bed in the night anymore. And – gomen. I know this is weird and I know you must be confused and it's probably hurting you as well. But would you prefer to sleep alone tonight? Or hold me?"

I stared at the floor. Spoken in those terms there was no decision to make.

Quietly:

"Hold you. I want to hold you."

"Good. It's what I want too. Do you want the rainy side or the dry side?"

"Dry. You're the Rain Girl, you can get soaked if the wind changes."

"I'll use the bathroom then."

"No, can I go first? I don't wear anything when I sleep – if you don't mind…"

"I'd noticed, and no, I don't mind."

"…so let me brush my teeth first and I'll get in while you go."

"All very complicated but sure, you go."

I stared in the bathroom mirror. I felt much better, much calmer. I knew her state of mind now – or I thought I did – her actions still didn't explain what she'd done during the play but I was happier. A lot happier. She would sleep with me again. Counting that time at Yukino's house in July it would be my third time with her. A warm comforting glow filled me. She may not love me, she may be in love with another. But some twist of fate had sent her love away and brought her and I into this situation. There might be tomorrow.

There might even be other nights and evenings and days.

I felt good. I felt better than I had in ages. I breathed in. Let's go.

She was stood near the futon by the shelves full of books and the music centre. I stood by the hallway screens and watched her. She was watching the night.

"I'm done."

She turned.

"Arigato."

She came across the room and went past me and the faint wave of her perfume blew over me as her body disturbed the air. I glanced behind me and watched her go down the hall. I'd brought in my alarm clock and the small table lamp from my room. I put them near the pillow, plugging in the lamp and switching it on.

I went back into the hallway and turned off the light, and the hall light, checked the front door was locked and everything in the kitchen was off. The usual jobs I do every night. Back in the library the noise from the rain seemed louder. I loosened the belt of my kimono and let it slide off my shoulders. The satin came to silent rest in a pool at my ankles. The night air was cool on my skin.

I looked down at myself. The swimming, running and diet were really paying off now. I don't think I'll ever be kawaii like some girls are and my waist isn't tiny like Rika's or Tsubasa's, I suppose that's because my hips are more boyish. But my legs are good, not plump at all now and the muscles are getting stronger. I cupped my breasts. Of course bigger ones would be nice but I had no complaints really. Considering what my body was like a year ago this was a huge improvement, it was probably even sexy. My arms too, the exercise was beginning to build muscles there as well. My skin was the thing I was happiest with. I hadn't had to touch the spot cream for a few weeks now and the tan from summer was mostly still there.

I ran my hands down from my chest to my stomach and then around to my bottom. No, no complaints. I squatted, tidied the bed, got on it and pulled the sheet over myself. I drew it up so I was covered and lay on my side watching the rain.

The hallway screen slid open then closed. I didn't turn around. She came around the foot of the futon and looked out at the rain. She turned to me.

"Maho, you are okay with this aren't you?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have said what I said if I wasn't."

"Maho?"

My voice was a whisper.

"Yes?"

"Come to bed."

She knelt down, twisted round and sat. Then I suddenly realised that I was on my right side and facing her and she would lift the sheet. It was too late to move, she was already in motion, sliding in. The sheet moved, tented up in the grip of her fingers. I simply shut my eyes as cool air flowed over my body, my chest and stomach. Then the futon squashed down a little and the sheet was drawn up. I opened my eyes.

She lay on her left side facing me, her face six inches away.

"I need to ask you if you really are okay with this. Are you?"

I smiled at her, "Of course I am. But I don't suppose I get a goodnight kiss."

"I think that might be pushing your luck a little."

"Gomen."

Silence. We lay there. Just looking.

"Shall I turn the light off?"

I nodded.

She reached up and black enveloped us. In a while my night vision came. There was dull blue-grey light from outside which surprised me. Even the darkest night is never completely black. I could make out the side of her face, her ear, the line of hair. And two bright star points of light in her eyes.

"Uh, do I? Do I snuggle up to you, or you to me?" I asked.

"I think we snuggle up to each other don't we? We both have fears."

"And needs."

"Yes, and needs."

But still we lay, not moving, not touching. A minute went by and I thought she might have dozed off but then it happened. It was she that moved. And that was the most wonderful part of that whole night. She knew I wanted to touch her, she knew I needed her much more than she needed me. But she was the one to close the gap between us. Maybe her pain of being without Takashi made her move. But I hope it was her hearts fondness for me, knowing I needed her but being too shy to close that impossibly vast few inches between us. I really hope so.

Her arm came onto my waist and slid around the small of my back, drawing me to her. With my right hand I reached for her left and clutched it to me, pressing it to my bare chest. My other arm went around her waist and then… then it all happened. We both needed this. From the movements of her body and her words I knew she did. And of course I did. We pressed together, and she surprised me when she pushed her face down into my neck, not letting me press mine to hers. That delicious hollow I had nuzzled that time at Yukino's house, she wanted that this time. Her body shuffled tightly against mine, our clasped hands squashed between our soft fronts. Her other hand clutching me close. I dared to slide my free hand down onto her bottom and finding the hem of her pyjama jacket, trace it up underneath and feeling hot firm skin, slide it up between her shoulders and pull her tighter to me.

For a moment we were still and I looked over her head and her sea of fresh tickling hair and watched the rain. Then I felt her moving. And then I knew how bad this was. Maho, the strong willed girl who never cried because it showed she was weak and vulnerable, became in my arms those very two things. Only those things. She was silent, she made no sound but her chest and her shoulders and her head began to judder and shake against me, vibrating with silent sobs. Her arm clutched at my bare back, squeezing me.

"K…Kanahrin… I'm afraid. I'm so afraid, so afraid… I'm m- missing him already. Missing him so much. I don't want him to go…"

And heart burning in my throat I pressed my lips to her hair and kissed her and shushed her and told her over and over that I loved her.

- - - oOo - - -

I lay awake a long time. She cried for a long time. But eventually her struggles ceased and sleep gave her rest. I lay awake, lips in her hair, heart against her heart, the rain lessening and finally ceasing. The night became colder and I dragged the blanket up from over our feet and around her, drawing it, and her, tightly against me. I measured the night of dripping water from my porch to a lawn that had become a lake, a lake separating us from what had gone before.

I tried to go back in my mind to when it had started. I recalled little comments and touches she'd given me. Looks and silences. I still didn't know what they meant and in my need I may even have imagined some of them. The thing was that some of these incidents had happened weeks ago, before she said Takashi had told her he was leaving. So what were they? I still didn't know what was happening, all I knew was that whatever it was, it felt good and I wanted her to need comforting. Takashi might be coming back in two-and-something years and then she would be his but if in the meantime his absence made Maho like this then I wanted to be the person to hold her while she needed holding.

And rain. The Rain Girl's rain. The rain of change. It washes us, renews us and brings a new day, a new beginning. And pattering and pounding on my roof it told me something. The roof of my umbrella, the roof of my house, the roof of my life and of my heart. Something good and joyous might be coming in my life. If it was, I welcomed it, yearned for it. And if Maho was part of that then I lacked for nothing and could and would do anything.

I held her warm and sleeping against me and promised her I would do anything for her, no matter what.

- - - oOo - - -

_15 – 17 August 2007_

_(1) Doujin - manga style comic written by fans. Based on a real manga or anime, they often contain fanservice and pornography.  
__(2) Anta baka - "what are you, stupid." _

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Two, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	63. Six Days : Conversation In An Entryway

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Three – Six Days / Conversation In An Entryway **

_So turn up the corners of your lips  
Part them and feel my finger tips  
Trace the moment, fall forever  
Defence is paper thin  
Just one touch and I'll be in  
Too deep now to ever swim against the current  
So let me slip away_

_So let me slip away… _

_- Dashboard Confessional, Vindicated _

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

_If we do not change our direction, we are likely to end up where we are headed._

_- Chinese proverb. _

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

That week went by and ended and I didn't see her in the evening again. Over the weekend I thought of her often, wondering how she might be at her aunt's house being polite and doing polite things and smiling in the right places and all the while, silently inside, screaming.

Thursday and Friday at school were almost normal. Other than that strange new tension between us that lay there and reminded us that from now on every moment was different, and which I ignored only with difficulty, those last two days of that last week of my normal life were like so many others. Lessons and lunch and talking with friends. Swimming club and glances from girls in corridors. Laughing with Asapin, getting to know Tonami and wondering about Arima. Briefly caught questioning looks from those around me who seemed to have picked up on something and who asked me, with their eyes,

"What?"

That Thursday morning when I awoke was so strange. At Yukino's house there had been lots of us and a party atmosphere filled the place. On Tuesday morning she had risen and gone while I lay sleeping and when I awoke and started my day I did so in the gentle haze of her fragrant absence, of non-presence, but she'd left her reminders for me to find and wonder at, clothing, bedding, breakfast bowl. No, Tuesday was not like Thursday.

On Thursday I awoke first. My first time, my very first time of opening my eyes and seeing the wonder that is Maho sleeping. I lifted my hand from her stomach and pushed myself up on my elbows and lay there five minutes merely looking, full of joy.

She lay on her back, one hand on herself under the sheet where it had held my hand, the other arm thrown up over her head, her face turned away, the blue-black ribbons of hair partly across her face so that I could see only the line of her jaw, the tip of her nose, her cheekbone and one of those pretty ears. She lay deeply asleep, her breathing steady and smooth. And I lay and drank that sight in. Not moving, not touching, not daring anything lest I wake her.

Reluctantly I got up, slipped my robe on, made coffee. I returned to the library and in the doorway watched her and watched the dripping fresh garden beyond, considered my new lake.

Then I walked around the futon, placed a steaming mug beside her and pulling up a cushion, knelt near her, drank coffee. I turned my attention out through the shouji and listened to the day starting, birdsong, the gutter dripping, distant traffic. I looked back at her and waited. And watched.

Because I could.

Because Maho sleeping was the finest sight I knew, the newest experience in my life, just eight minutes old.

She began to stir, sleep lightened and became consciousness, she tossed her head and scratched her nose. Perhaps she'd felt my presence. I hoped so, I hoped that her mind had found a connection with mine and when I was close, she noticed. The most amazing eyes in the world lifted open, unfocused, drowsy. She moved her head and saw me. I smiled.

"What are you doing?"

She put her thrown up arm under her head, raising it. With her other hand she brushed hair aside.

"Were you watching me?"

"Ano…"(1)

"You were weren't you?"

"I made coffee," I indicated a direction with my eyes.

"Voyeurism should be a crime. At least in this house."

I rose, squatted by her, kissed her forehead.

"No, in this house, it's an art form."

I lifted again, pushing myself up only with the muscles in ankles and legs and stepped over her.

"Drink it, it's getting cold," I left my caring comment behind me and went out.

In the kitchen I called back.

"Come in in a minute. Breakfast!"

"Right!"

I saw a drowsy crumpled pink shape go past the kitchen in the direction of my bathroom. I did something simple, toast, cereals, juice. I wasn't Asapin, I couldn't be bothered with miso and frying eggs and doing rice and fussing about. I should have, our first breakfast together should have been special. But it didn't need to be. Or at least the food didn't need to be. The breakfast was. I would always remember it, nothing of that evening, night or morning have gone, I remember it like it was yesterday. Whether breakfasts are cleverly prepared or not doesn't make them stay in your heart forever. People do that.

She came in looking a little more awake.

We sat, we ate, we didn't talk. I didn't need to; I was quite at ease with silence. She seemed lost in her own world. She'd said if she was quiet to let her be quiet. She makes the best rules, I love to keep them. She could make rules that governed my entire existence and I'd joyfully keep to every last one. So I didn't speak, besides, using my brain to construct conversation would have detracted from the view.

She offered to wash up the dishes while I dug out my spare uniform skirt, a shirt, socks. I lay them on my chest of drawers.

"Clothes are in my room. I haven't picked any underwear, I'll let you do that."

She looked over her shoulder at me, wiping glasses with the dish towel.

"Oh?"

"I want to see which ones you pick."

"You'll have to work out later then what's missing. I'll be damned if I'm showing you."

"Ha, well I had hoped."

"Hope on, dear, hope on."

"You go and get ready, I'll finish up in here."

"Arigato."

- - - oOo - - -

Walking to school. It was cooler today, breezy and damp, but fresh and bright. A blue sky and fluffy fast moving clouds. A beautiful morning, the air renewed and sharp. And taking my usual route with her beside me was both so ordinary and at the same time so new and exciting.

I was walking to school beside a girl I'd slept with. That thought brought with it delicious sensations. I felt like hugging myself. It didn't matter that nothing had happened, what mattered was that she'd wanted to be with me, wanted my caring arms. That, right then, filled my entire world until it overflowed. If she needed me then I needed nothing more.

We went through the park and around the fountain, its tall gushing jets greeted us. I saw her glance at it and my mind imagined her shirt, wet and transparent and hinting at the wonders beneath.

And so our day started and we did merely schoolgirl things. She went home that evening to pack a bag for her weekend away and I swam and came home to a house that while empty, no longer had only me in it. Not any more. It contained another person. She was still here, small reminders of her.

I washed the things of mine she'd worn, ate, did homework and watched TV. I had an early night.

And so the week went. Friday I fretted, she would be seeing Takashi that evening. At lunchtime I grabbed a passing Asapin and asked him if he'd like to come round that night to eat. I offered to cook.

"Oh yes? This I must see."

"Curry. Yes? You eat curry don't you?"

"Sure."

_Heh heh… _

When we'd eaten (the heat didn't faze him at all – _damn_) and were lounging on the sofa I told him would he mind if we didn't do anything. He'd looked at me strangely and agreed easily enough but wondered if there was something wrong and I'd said not particularly but I was thinking a lot about Maho at the moment, about her going through a bad time because her man was leaving and I'd added that I wanted company because thinking about her being lonely was hurting. He accepted that and asked me if things were changing between me and her and my reply was that I didn't know. I hoped so but wasn't sure what was going on.

I remembered only a kiss in a school play. A held hand in the wings of a stage. A comment in a corridor. A soft 'thank you' on a rooftop. I turned these things over and over and didn't dare imagine what they meant.

I asked him if he wanted to stay, if he wanted me to hold him but he declined and went for his last train. At the door he hugged me tight for a long time.

As the door closed (rattle, clunk, a thousand days) I wondered if I'd upset him.

The house was quiet that night. Very quiet and very big and I thought constantly of what she and he were doing. Talking, touching, holding, kissing. I shook my head to drive the images away.

My lake had gone. Drained away, I had a lawn again. But the difference remained, the changes had happened, my garden, my house, my life, my heart were new.

It rained again that night. In my dream. I dreamed of a cloudy dull day, the overcast making the light green and stormy. I was walking along a road between houses and came to a river, it raged and flowed fast, deep. There was a bridge and it had a roof, like one of those old wooden American bridges. It was long and straight and dark inside but I went in, knowing I had to. The dark didn't worry me. In the sides of the bridge at intervals were windows and I looked out at the rain falling into the river. The far end of the bridge came closer, at first it was far, far away, a pinprick of light but it began to draw closer until I reached it.

On the other side of the bridge it was bright day, summer and the sun shone down and it was countryside, open grassland and trees and with my heart full of hope I strode up the hill on the far side.

But what I remembered most about that dream was the middle of it, inside the bridge, the darkness around me and the light ahead. And above me the noise, the noise of the rain pattering and fluttering on the bridge.

I remember it clearly.

That week.

That strange week, strangest of all times.

Maho asleep, Maho at peace. That breakfast. The sound of dream rain.

They became my life.

- - - oOo - - -

On Saturday I went swimming and cleaned the house (oh joy) and on Sunday I called Inoue and we saw a movie and went shopping. She was happy to see me and we had a great time. I found myself feeling a little odd around her, much like I suppose Maho felt around me, wondering what some looks and some comments might mean, and whether the little touches were really accidental.

We were walking back from the shops to the station. I had some department store bags on my left shoulder and she had some on her right. I dropped back a pace and crossed over behind her, coming up on her left side. She glanced at me, interrupted in the middle of something she was saying.

"What was that for?"

My answer was to reach out and take her hand, holding and squeezing affectionately.

"I've never had a boyfriend," I said, "let's pretend."

She looked at me and over her face came the most wonderful smile and expression of gratitude. It's such a simple thing, touching a person in this way. She had done it to me once, when I was a different person in a different world and her kindness had saved me. But she looked like she needed to be touched and her response, that look in her eyes, told me my kindness meant more to her than I knew.

"Me neither," she responded, "So which are you? The girl or the boy?"

I had to confess I had no idea.

"Does it matter? As long as you have a friend, who's keeping score?"

"I'll be the girl," she said.

"I'll be the girl too. Is that alright? Two girls?"

"It's fine, just fine," she spoke to the station steps at her feet as she climbed them. Her hand squeezed mine.

"Inoue, don't give up. The right girl will come, one day I know she will. She'll either come," I looked at her, "…or come back."

On the train ride home I think she was tired. Well, she rested her cheek on my shoulder so I assume she was. And I held her hand in my lap.

- - - oOo - - -

Monday was horrible.

Not because she wasn't there.

But because I knew where she was and what she was probably going through.

But it was October now and that morning I put on the winter uniform. The slightly heavier winter-weight cotton blouse. The dark blue (almost black) blazer, buttoned up with three shiny brass buttons under the bust. Very smart. It always reminded me of Yukino, when she used to wear it so perfectly, in the early days, like a soldier on parade. This was last winters one, it was too loose in the bodice now and too tight across the bust. They were a tailored design, close fitting so as to highlight to the world how smart Hokuei High students were, what a good school it was. But after growing and dieting and blooming rather a lot I looked like a sack of potatoes in mine. Bad advertising, the sensei would comment. I'd phone sis tonight and ask for an allowance to go buy a new one at the weekend.

And the socks. The dark grey (again almost black) thick cotton socks with the elasticated tops that you pulled high up the thigh leaving two inches of teasing bare skin visible below the ridiculously short blue plaid skirt. And if the blazer was Yukino's badge, the thigh socks were Maho's. So I wore them with joy. Sexy and silly and not that practical they may be but wearing them my mind was constantly reminded of her, so that was fine. More than fine, it was perfect. And in any case, when the weather got colder we could wear overcoats so it wasn't a problem.

That night I swam hard for two hours and at the end of it my muscles were burning. I had a lot of energy that Monday, angry energy and I needed to get rid of it. I was angry at the world, at the conventions people hold onto, the lines they draw, the rules they make and their kindness that obliges them to stay behind those lines, obey those rules. If it wasn't for lines and rules, conventions and kindness Maho wouldn't be suffering.

And yet, I thought, as I let the warm shower water sluice over me… and yet, if they didn't where would I be now? What would I be thinking? In whose arms would I be sobbing because Maho had moved in with her boyfriend and had no need of a friendship with me?

A friendship was coming, a very odd one it might turn out to be. We would be classmates and school friends, sharing homework and lunches. We would compete in PE, and on sports days be team mates. We would be excited as the test grades were put up, wondering how we'd done. We might be grumpy as each months nastiness dented our days. We would have autumn and the Kyoto school trip coming up. We'd have snow and then spring and next summer and I had no idea at all what it would be like.

Because of her, because something was going on. She hadn't told me, not said a word, but in her looks and actions and words I knew things were going on. What sort of things and thoughts and feelings I had no idea.

All I knew was that I was dying to find out.

- - - oOo - - -

She wasn't in school Tuesday either, which surprised me.

I did my work and went around in a trance, this world wasn't my world. The people in it saw me and spoke to me and I responded. I went into rooms and sat at desks and spoke to sensei and wrote words in my books and put food in my mouth and chewed it, but I wasn't there. My world grazed gently against this one, it brushed along it's flank like a breeze bending the tops of trees. They interacted, they touched and affected one another but one was real and one was meaningless. One world had Maho in it and one didn't and I was pulled away from one and floating toward the other, a leaf in the wind, feeling both worlds but a part of neither.

The world I wanted wasn't there that Tuesday and when school ended and I swam again and coach made me dive over and over and over perfecting my entry and recovery and that important first breath, I felt like I was practicing. I was leaving my world and diving into another. And it was vital that I get that transition right.

My dive, my recovery, my first breath. These would determine the whole race, the result depended on this transition being perfect.

I was diving.

Maho was the water. She was the rain that had fallen on me and made for me a lake. My lake. The lake of my future.

I walked home, my mind afloat, my muscles tired, my heart soaring. And diving.

Tomorrow.

Wednesday, surely she'd be there tomorrow.

- - - oOo - - -

But, no.

I was wrong.

It wasn't until Wednesday before she was there.

She was there now. Right now. Here. As I turned off the street and through the front gate and let it click back on it's spring behind me I turned to check the mailbox.

And caught movement.

At the top of the path by my front door. A person sitting with a bag. She wore black slacks and a red shirt.

I looked and tried to understand what this might mean.

"I forgot," she said, offhand, like she'd bought the wrong type of milk, like it wasn't important, "you swim on Tuesdays. That was silly of me. How could I forget?"

"What are you doing here?"

"It was stupid of me, I came right after school time thinking I might see you on the way home."

"You weren't in school today."

"So I've been here ages. Two hours or more."

"Why weren't you in school? I was worried about you."

"At first I couldn't work out why you were late. Then I remembered. _Baka_. So. Here I am."

"Why?"

A conversation along a path. We were twenty feet apart, me with a fistful of forgotten mail and a sports bag, she with her huge suitcase and her issues.

I had my back to the garden gate, the world behind me. She had her back to my front door. My world behind her.

I smiled at that thought as it came into my head. Aya should be here. Oh, the symbolism. She'd have kittens in her excitement.

I didn't get it. Considering how much I had thought about all sorts of things these last few days, it struck me afterwards how odd it was that this scenario had never occurred to me. Why didn't it?

I asked again.

"Why are you here?"

She stood up, getting wearily off my front step, a hand pressing against the suitcase to help push herself up. She stood a little unsteadily.

"Because you are."

_Because I am… what?_ My mind couldn't take in her meaning. I walked to the door.

"You'd better come in." I unlocked it.

"Yes. That would be best."

She spoke in riddles. I slid the door open. Rattle. Clunk. A thousand days. Another day. Just another, like all the others.

I went in, dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes. I stepped up to the hallway, put on slippers, turned back.

"Come on in then."

She was still outside.

"May I?"

"Maho? What is it with you? Of course, come on."

She looked at me, her face strained and tired.

And again, at the door, another door. That tender glance at me, looking up, tired and lost, her long hair hanging over her face, her slight "Arigato" as she stood and made a decision I could not grasp. I would later. Later I would come to understand its meaning but right then I merely frowned, as always, me wondering what she was thanking me for…

She reached for the handle of her suitcase, pulling it on its wheels behind her. She looked at the floor in front of her. The metal runner of the door track was six inches in front of her toes. I looked too and something began to happen.

Staring at her feet and that metal line I said it.

"Come into my home."

She paused, looking at the line for a long moment. She still had the opportunity to turn around and walk away, go back home and never cross it.

She took a step, her foot passed across the line, the other followed it. She stood in my entryway. Another step. Another. Brought that ridiculous huge case in behind her. She looked up at me.

"Tadaima."

Her voice was soft, dark and wounded.

"Okaerinasai."(2)

The deeper meaning of that exchange came to me and suddenly I began to understand what this was. I stepped back down into the entryway and took the bag handle from her fingers and pulled it over to the step, heaving it up.

"My God, this weighs a ton. What have you got in here?"

She was looking at the floor.

"My life."

My heart leaped.

I let go the bag handle leaving it in the middle of the hallway. I stepped down again and went to her, put my hands on her arms above the elbows.

"Look at me."

She lifted her head.

"What's going on?" I asked, "Is this…?"

Her eyes shone.

"Don't cry again," I said hurriedly

"It's funny," she said, her voice no more than a whisper, "I only cry with you. With him I couldn't cry at all. Perhaps that's how it should be. He wouldn't want a crybaby child, he wants an adult to share his life. I didn't even feel like crying. It hurt but I didn't cry."

"I don't mind," I said. I moved closer and where her face was still tilted a little down I touched my forehead to hers, our noses were an inch apart. Our lives… I don't know how close our lives were. Closer than that perhaps. "If you cry only when you're with me then I don't mind if you cry a lot. I'd like it if you cried."

"I don't like crying," she whispered, her breath caressing my mouth and chin. She lifted a hand up to my cheek and her fingers slid along my jaw up near my ear and her thumb rubbed under my eye, "but I do like being with you."

"Maho…"

And then our faces touched again, and this time we didn't touch foreheads and this time the softness of her took my breath away, and my mind and after a few moments when we'd parted and her hand had left my face, had withdrawn from around my ear and being tangled, frightened in my hair and I had taken my hand from the back of her neck where somehow it had moved and pressed and urged her softness against me, and we'd parted, and I'd moved my fingers around and along that beautiful lower lip, so soft and plump I couldn't believe something so beautiful could exist, and she'd kissed my fingertips, then I realised that she'd taken something else.

All of me, she took all of me. My heart too.

But then I think she'd stolen that months ago, it had just taken a while for everything else to catch up.

"Sakana… can I stay? For a while?"

"Yes. Onegai. As long as you like. How long…?"

"Two and a half years."

- - - oOo - - -

_17 – 20 August 2007_

_(1) Ano – 'well…' or 'err…'  
(2) Tadaima – "I'm back" or "I'm home" and Okaerinasai – "Welcome back." Or "Welcome home." I love this simple exchange. It is made between family members at doorways millions of times a day in Japan, it's just a routine. Like in English we might say "How are you?" and the reply is "I'm fine." But behind these simple meanings there is a deeper quite wonderful meaning to this exchange. Tadaima means "I am back where I belong." And Okaerinasai means "Welcome back to the place you're meant to be." It's this deeper meaning that catches in Sakana's mind and affects her so much. Maho, too, is probably quite aware of what she is saying. In effect by uttering that short exchange these two women have already acknowledged that Maho is going to live in this house._

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Three, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	64. The Day A Girl Stopped Biting Her Nails

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Four – The Day A Girl Stopped Biting Her Nails **

"_It took me about six or eight dates with one particular girl before I realized she was interesting enough and gorgeous enough for me to want to kiss her. It's never happened after three before."_

- Asaba Hideaki, July 1995

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the afternoon of birds pecking at food in an alley  
Touching the grass illuminated by the gentle komorebi  
I'll talk with you.  
See, on the lunch bench, a dream blossoms,  
Carry the sound of waves in your heart.

- Paranoia Agent, opening theme.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
She'd come to my house three times, stayed overnight three times. On the first night she left in the morning without speaking, without me even seeing her go.

The second time we shared breakfast but hardly talked. I couldn't. It was too wonderful. We left together and went to school.

The third time, our third date, was when I kissed her. And the wonder of that moment was she didn't stand there and do nothing. The thing that made my heart burst in my chest and made the world new and wonderful was that she kissed me back. So beautifully. So gently I almost wept. And that third time, she stayed. She didn't leave. She brought that crazy bag, like a small car it was and unpacked her things. I wondered which room to give her. _His_ room, on the other side of mine away from the bathroom was out of the question. I went in there only once a month or so to dust and air it. Apart from that it didn't exist. There was sis's room beyond the bathroom but she might come to stay over sometime. The only other room was mom and dad's, the biggest bedroom. So I gave her that one. I dragged her suitcase into it then went to get the polish and duster to give the room a quick freshen up.

I came back out of the kitchen and stood in the bedroom doorway.

_Where's the case gone?_

I heard a sound behind me and turned, walked back along the hallway. I stood by the open screen door to my room.

The case was open, she was pulling dresses out, flicking out creases.

"There you are. Got any more hangers?"

"What are you doing?" I asked

"Unpacking."

"Don't you want your own room?"

"Yes. I'll take this one. Is that alright? I know my way around your underwear drawer already so it seems silly to get used to another one."

I almost felt angry, the cheek of it.

"There's not enough drawers."

"We'll share. I'll put mine in with yours. We're almost the same size anyway."

"Maho!"

"Hm? What's the matter with you? It's what you wanted isn't it?"

So that's why I was angry, because she'd pre-empted me. I had secretly wanted her to take another room just so I'd have the oh-so enjoyable task of slowly working away at her with kindness and kisses and touches and words, so she would eventually want to share my room. I had been thinking about that delicious confrontation, had been scheming how to do it, each little move, each subtle battle.

Gradually getting her into my bed.

And the daft cow had come marching straight in and was putting her bras in my undies drawer. Damn her! Was there no justice any more?!

"And besides," she was saying as she hummed and dropped all manner of flimsy pastel coloured intriguing things in among my panties, "it seems pointless to get two lots of bedding out each night and dirty them."

"Maho."

She stopped.

"What?"

"Arigato."

"What on earth for, you like being burdened?"

"If you do it, yes. Arigato gozaimasu. For coming. For choosing me when you needed to go somewhere."

"There wasn't a choice."

"Good thing I was here then."

She looked me carefully in the eye, dark and cool.

"You misunderstand. I left home _because_ you're here. Because this is where I want to be."

My heart soaring, I mumbled something about tea and withdrew. When she said such things in such a direct way and those eyes were on me I couldn't bear it.

I took the tea tray into the library, switched on the lights, the day was already nearing dusk.

"Tea!" I called.

"Arigato! Give me a minute!"

I needed to change. I had to get out of my uniform but she was in my room. I didn't feel able to just walk in there and strip to my underwear in front of her and change. I had done in the past of course, countless times in the locker room before PE.

But this was different.

Like a fool I stood outside in the hallway, unable to enter my own bedroom. This was stupid. Why was I nervous? Didn't I _want_ her to see me? Of course… and yet. It was all about the timing wasn't it? She'd glimpsed me briefly in bed the other night and no doubt had seen plenty more of me in the showers after PE or swimming. But that wasn't it. Those times everyone just hurriedly did what they had to do and covered up quickly. Emotion was absent. But tonight it was different. She had come into my home, into my life. She was upset, struggling without the one she loved, her heart in tatters, vulnerable. It was simply not the time, not yet. Which was why I decided then that tonight nothing would happen, she wouldn't want it and I didn't want to hurt her.

So, right now, her unpacking and turning round to see my half-bare arse while she was so unprepared was not a situation I wanted to be responsible for. It wasn't fair on her.

Like a nervous child I retreated to the kitchen and waited. I heard her go into the library (she was already getting the hang of what happened when and in which rooms) and I slipped out and quickly hurled my uniform off and threw on something casual, practical and unsexy.

"Where did you go? Tea's getting cold."

"Got changed."

"I don't bite. You should have come in while I was there."

Huh, there was no pleasing some people.

"I thought I'd give you some space, some privacy."

"If I'd wanted space and privacy I'd have taken that big room at the end. Or stayed at home."

"True. But…"

"But what? I'm here Kanahrin because I choose to be. If I was prudish about being undressed around you or you round me I'd have told you. I'm a big girl. Don't worry. I came here because I like it here. I like this house. I like being around you and having you around me. And I'm better at schoolwork, seeing you flounder with homework feeds my ego."

"Huh, thanks a bunch."

She sipped her tea and gave me _that_ look, that infuriatingly calm, quiet, emotionless wall. Damn her.

I knelt and poured myself a cup. For a while we sat in companionable silence sipping our tea.

"You're often quiet. Are you naturally a quiet person?"

"I've only been here an hour. Bit early for the deep and meaningfuls isn't it?"

"Gomen…"

I sipped again. Tea, the great calmer, the great healer. Brings people together. What do the English say? _"Best drink of the day."_

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Hm."

She lay her cup down. Clink.

"When we stayed that night in July at Yukino's. The day Tsubasa went ballistic. Remember? The next morning when I left with her. You looked… I don't know. You came to the door to see me off and you had such an unhappy look on your face. A sort of helpless thing. What was that about?"

She picked up her cup and sipped, her eyes looked down into it. Then her gaze lifted and she did it again. I both hated that look because I couldn't fathom it, it confused and perplexed me. And yet, and yet I would happily die just to see it. When she smiled and laughed she was gorgeous but her second favourite face for me was that one, that blank soft rather vacant and patient looking face she wore so often. It annoyed me and thrilled me.

"I really don't remember that specifically."

"You looked as though you wanted to help me but couldn't. As though something was holding you back."

"The reason I'm often quiet and I hardly show emotion is that I _am_ holding myself back. I deliberately contain my emotions because if I don't, I wouldn't be able to control myself around Takashi. I've wanted to be so much more involved with him for a long time but I was afraid that if I let my emotions go I'd do something stupid. Something I'd regret.

"All the times when you were emotional and I held back and seemed insensitive. I just had to. I'm actually a very emotional person and I just wear this mask, put up this wall around my emotions, so I don't act crazy. It's how I am.

"I'm sorry if I seemed ungrateful – those times on the roof. That day when I lost my fight with Yukino and last week when I told you he was leaving. You were kind to me and I really appreciated you doing that. But I just clammed up and held it down inside. Would you forgive me?"

"What on earth for?"

"For hurting you. For being so insensitive."

I knelt there while these bombshells went silently off in my gut. It explained a lot of things.

"It doesn't matter. You're here. That's what matters to me, that when you were desperate it was me you came to. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"I think I can guess. Takashi went through a stage early last year when I was fourteen and had just started my last year of middle school. He sent me away because I was too young. At the end of the year when I passed my Hokuei entrance exam I went out with mom and bought the new uniform and the very next day went around to see him. I was so proud. At the time he was a bit confused and concerned about me doing that but I told him this summer why. Because his rejection had inspired me to work that much harder and go to a good school and so gain his approval. As a dizzy fifteen year old it was all I could do. The only way I could express my desire to be what he wanted – more grown up.

"But he told me on Monday when we were at the airport waiting for his flight. He told me that that day he was so proud of me, so pleased and surprised. I had made all that effort for him and at the time he'd shown no reaction. He said he was sorry for doing that, and he wanted me to know.

"So now I want you to know. How grateful I am for everything you did. I don't know what I'm doing here, I just know that I enjoy being near you and I couldn't stay in that house with mom any more. Every time I heard her voice or saw her face she reminded me of Takashi and his being sent away. That's what it was literally. She sent him away. But as to what happens here now, I don't know. I know how you feel about me and that's very flattering. I would never be unfaithful to Takashi with a boy but with you? Hm, I somehow feel comfortable. What will happen will happen but please take it slowly, I'm very fragile right now."

I looked at her and my heart swelled. My insides bloomed with a roaring hope and need.

"Arigato gozaimasu. I think that is the best thing anyone has said to me in my whole life. That time again in the summer when we first met Tsubaki and Rika and Aya and I had those crying fits and everyone was so nice to me. I felt so welcomed by you all, it really affected me. I'd been so lonely for so long. Years and years. That day you hugged me and said something about whatever it was that was hurting me you'd like to help? Well I've never forgotten that. And now you are helping. Just coming here is helping. Taking away my loneliness. Filling this aching gap that's inside me.

"And I want to return the favour. I want to take off your mask. I want to knock down your wall. Your emotional wall. For me you can. Let go, let your emotions go. Go crazy for me. You'll need to practice being emotional for two years time anyway, won't you?"

She smiled.

"Something of a journey for both of us isn't it?"

I nodded.

"What time is it?" she asked

"Coming up to half eight. Are you hungry? I can do some food."

"No, I ate before I came out. Are you hungry?"

"No, not really. I'm too happy to be hungry."

She smiled. _Ah, lovely._

"What homework did I miss from the last two days?"

"Japanese, Geography and Math. Do you want to do it with me now?"

"No," she paused, "Actually you know what I'd like to do? I'd like to just go to bed."

She stood up and held out her hand.

"Take me to bed, Kanahrin. I need arms around me."

When Maho said that, in that way, who was I to disobey?

"Let me clear these things up."

"Leave them. I'll do it in the morning."

I reached and took her hand. It was cool and strong, she pulled me up.

"No funny stuff now. Just a hug."

"Hai, onee-chan."

She raised an eyebrow at that. _Big sister._ I could see the thought cross her eyes, surprise. Maybe a hint of acceptance.

"So now we have our first problem. Two people, one bathroom."

"Ladies first," I offered.

"That doesn't help us much now does it?"

"Age before beauty?" I smiled at her, teasing.

She leaned close to me and breathed on me in a stage whisper.

"You're heading the right way for a smack on the bottom."

_Oh, God, yes._

"Guests first then," I blushed at her words.

She went in while I quailed and pushed away hot images of me across her lap with my skirt pulled up and my panties down…

_Why am I so naughty? I just have these naughty thoughts all the time…_

I cleared away the tea things, disobeying her for the first time. No way, my girl, are you clearing up in my house when it's you that offers me your arms. Offers me your life. I wondered if being disobeyed bothered Maho. Perhaps she punished disobedient girls. Perhaps she spanked them. I hoped so.

_Stop it!_

"All done!" she called.

I went in and undressed and washed and brushed my teeth. And then realised my robe was in the bedroom. Baka. I was no longer alone in my house. I had to think for the first time, to plan my moves so I didn't do what I'd just done. Anta baka.

I stood outside the bedroom. The shouji was closed.

"Are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Turn the light off."

"Why?"

"Onegai, just do it."

"Wrong answer," I could hear the teasing in her voice. Had she seen my robe on the peg? "Why do you want the light off?"

"I'm embarrassed."

"What on earth about? We've done this before."

"I'm not wearing anything."

Was that a snigger I heard?

"Do you often wander around your house naked?"

"Stop it, you…!"

"It's a fair question."

"Yes." I hung my head, lowered my voice. She was terrible, up front with everything, in your face. Making me squirm. I'd gone pink and there was still a closed screen between us.

"Well if it embarrasses you maybe I should start doing it to?"

"Don't! Stop teasing me! You're terrible."

"Come on in. I don't mind."

I couldn't. My legs wouldn't move. There was a sound from within the room, movement.

The shouji slid open. She stood there. In shock I covered myself, one arm across my chest, the other hand pressing down to the tops of my legs.

I yelped.

She stood there, looking calmly at me. She wore a long white tee shirt and below the hem of it was visible a pair of loose soft white cotton shorts. Very Maho, very simple yet stylish even in bed.

"I've only been here two hours and already you're pissing me off," her eyes sparkled and danced, her voice was sharp, "now stop pratting about and come to bed."

She reached for my hand, I suppose to draw me into the room. I shied away.

"Baka!" her eyes blazed, inside I melted.

_God yes, be angry with me. Smack your naughty girl._

"Kanahrin, we have got to get this bedroom and bathroom and washing and undressing crap organised. It can't be that hard. A billion families all over the world manage to cope, why are you so different?"

I knew the answer.

A billion other families weren't living with Maho. That was the simple explanation. But all I could offer her though was,

"Ano…"

Her gaze softened.

"You're impossible," and with that she put her hands to the hem of her shirt and began to lift it.

"No!"

I put my hands out to stop her, why I have no idea, maybe a deep down cultural urge about nudity made me do it. She let the shirt hem down again.

"That's better," she held a hand out, "Now, come."

I realised my arms were still held out. I looked down at myself.

"Ah."

And then it happened. She lifted both hands and took mine in hers and lifting and opening my arms and looking at me and smiling more wonderfully than I have ever seen before she said,

"All this embarrassment crap… No idea why. You look great. Kana… you're really pretty. So, come. Sleep with me."

And her eyes sparkling, and still teasing she walked backwards into the bedroom drawing me in with her, much like Asapin had once done. Being the sacrificial lamb again. It seemed to be my style. She walked backwards over the futon and still holding my hands knelt, I knelt with her. She let go of me, and pulled the sheet aside. I twisted round and slid down, lying on my side facing her. She did the same, pulling the sheet up over us both.

She reached up over her head and set the alarm clock.

"This says six thirty. Your normal time? Alright for you?"

"Yes," was my whispered reply. Anything was alright.

"We have two in the house now. It takes longer than a person living alone."

"Yes."

"We both have to use the bathroom."

"Maybe…"

"Hm?"

"We could use it together…?"

"Maybe. We'll see, Anything is better than this awkward embarrassment rubbish I suppose."

The hand that was still lifted near the alarm clock reached for the small side lamp I always put on the floor at night, she switched it off. It was late in the year now and already dark, a blue gloom filled the room.

"Now," she said softly, "about that cuddle."

And this time she came to me, without hesitation or awkwardness. Her arms came around me and pulled us together and the warmth and freshness of her washed body took my breath away and left me gasping with sensations of utter peace and joy. I hugged her back as hard as I could, I needed to express my thanks, my wonder at what she'd done, how wonderful she'd made me feel by coming here.

Her offer of staying, it still made me reel, two and a half years. I couldn't grasp it. All I could do was grasp her, hug her delicious softness against my own and drown in pleasure and happiness.

We lay entwined in the dark. The alarm clock measured the passing moments.

"Arigato," her breath whispered against my neck, so faintly I thought my gentle slow slide into sleep had brought dreams already.

I shifted my face out of the hollow of her neck.

"I should be saying that."

"I don't think so. You're helping me deal with this. I'm grateful."

"I'm glad you came. Arigato."

"That's good then."

"Maho…?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

I felt her body tense just a little.

"I said no funny stuff, didn't I?"

"You did."

"Kissing is funny stuff."

"Good night kisses aren't."

"Hm. I'm not convinced."

"I'll show you."

"Alright, but I'm warning you. If I even feel a hint of tongue I'll bite the damn thing off."

"Hai, onee-chan," She could dominate me even while whispering tenderly, it was just the way she was, so in control.

I shifted my position a little.

"Come closer…"

She did. And I did. And we both did. And again, so soft and gentle I find it hard to describe. Nothing at all like kissing Asapin. He was angular and had traces of stubble some days and his mouth was broad and strong and seemed to have the teeth close behind thin lips. He would push against me fiercely and thrust into me like a boy thrusts into a girl elsewhere. He never kissed gently, but always aggressively. I liked his kisses, they made me hot at once, made wetness and unnecessary heat blossom in me so easily. He always tasted nice but he tasted of boy, eager and dominant.

But this… so very different. As different as I imagined it could possibly be. I didn't feel Maho's teeth at all, her lips were fuller, especially her bottom lip which I so quickly came to adore, to worship. It was the gentleness of it, the slowness. Everything about her was slow and caring and sweet tasting. I tasted her toothpaste. Liquorice I think, a sharp earthy rich minty flavour that was unusual and yet exciting. Asapin was energetic and thrust at me, Maho hardly moved at all.

We lay with our heads on the pillow, our noses a little awkwardly squashed past each other and moved only our lips. We met and parted, then I went back for more, pressing to her for longer. We broke off and the next time it was she who came to me and my heart sang in my body for the joy of it, for her wanting to give a kiss rather than the other times when she'd received.

We parted again.

She stared at me, there was little light in the room and her eyes, part-closed were dark and I couldn't read them.

"Goodnight," she said.

"No," I said, unable to let it end there, "more."

"More?"

"Hm, I want to say goodnight more."

And she let me. She let me say goodnight over and over, again and again, and because she'd mentioned it as though it were a rule, which I suppose it was, I obeyed her comment and though I parted my lips a little, I kept my tongue inside.

Her hand came up to my arm and lifted it away from her.

I'd not even noticed that I'd laid one hand on the side of her face and was caressing her, feeling through the strands of that midnight sea of hair.

So when she lifted my hand away and returned it back around her waist and her motion made me pull away I realised what I'd done.

I drew back, ashamed. Too much. I had kissed her too much. I was glad of the darkness, my shame glowed on my face.

"Gomen."

"No, it's alright. You kiss goodnight beautifully. The nicest goodnight kisses I have ever had. But now, we sleep. We have a lot of time Kanahrin, months and months. Give me time, onegai."

"Gomen. Gomen nasai."

"Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, onee-chan."

"They will be."

And I pressed against her again, holding on tight.

- - - oOo - - -

And that is how it started.

Well, I confess that isn't _when_ it started. It started a while before then, during the play. I think that was the very start although even before then I think she had shown me the cracks in her defences. I'd received a hint of them but not understood.

During _Steel Snow_ I had been shown not a crack but a doorway through which she was inviting me but my confusion held me back.

But really I suppose that first night of her stay was the real beginning, not the early unsure stages, nor even the night it rained, but that cool October Tuesday when the year began to end and my life began to begin. If that makes sense.

But it started in innocence and awkwardness and embarrassment and silly reprimands. With me constantly stepping beyond the lines she drew. Because I couldn't help myself. And she patiently showing me again where the lines were and politely reminding me which side of them I should be.

I craved a day when there would be no lines but for a long time they remained. They were in her heart, etched deeply and would not fade easily. All I could do, and did, was wait and hope and press gently against them, pushing them back. Inch by inch.

One lunchtime near the middle of October we were enjoying a last burst of warmth, of sunny days. The weak sunshine, lower in the sky being just enough to let you go outside without a coat, although a blazer was essential now. The leaves were starting to fall and despite the sun the ground now seemed damp all the time. It wasn't always possible to find a dry bench but that day we did find one. We were often in the classroom at lunchtime and talked and joked with the others, Maho usually sitting away from the centre of the group as she always had and I clinging closer to Yukino, because my insecurity demanded I be accepted into the core of the chatter.

I'd noticed Maho staying as she was but didn't comment. Nor did I cling to Maho. I knew she liked her peace and space and of course it was to be expected that she would want to avoid it looking like we were a couple. I knew the feelings well, those thoughts of it not being right and how much the world might look at you funny as though you were ill, in need of professional help. I knew it all so well and I knew what Maho must be going through. Confusion, self-doubt, it would damage you if you let it.

But this day, our last sunny day of the year it turned out, as we were finishing our last class before lunch and gathering up books and pencils she came to me and said,

"Let's eat outside, on a bench."

And we avoided the others before they came across from the other building, from 1-D and slipped out. Maho had taken to wearing a school scarf which was pale blue like the skirt and a fine wool knit with the plaid design on it. She wore it doubled over around her neck, the ends pushed through the loop. She could even look stylish in a school scarf. How I envied that easy grace.

We brushed fallen leaves off and sat down, close but not touching, our lunch boxes on our laps. Despite her jokes about being undressed about the house, in two weeks nothing much had changed. She remained clothed even between bathroom and bedroom to get dressed. I still slept naked but would put on a robe at all times, unlike before when I'd often enjoy breakfast in my skin, or a whole evening curled up with the TV that way. And sometimes, very debauched, in summer when it was hot, whole days like that.

We slept together, hugged often, all the time, shared our thoughts and would kiss goodnight and good bye and good morning (and any other excuse I could invent) but nothing more. I felt like we'd gone a certain distance and struck a barrier, a barrier of acceptance and worry and concern and doubt and self-identity. Maho's barrier.

I leaned on it and timidly knocked, I even rattled the door handle but it would not open. So I rested, worried and apprehensive on my side of her wall and she, her thoughts hidden from me, on hers.

We ate in comfortable unhurried silence. Only when she was with me could I find silences and pauses relaxing. She lifted her chopsticks to her mouth.

_Lucky old rice_, I thought.

Then I noticed them. I stared. The change was clear enough.

"Your nails."

"Hm?"

"You've stopped biting them."

She lifted her hand, held it up, palm downwards. Her nails were growing. The ends girlishly curved like only a young girls nails do, long and smooth and pretty where she'd begun filing them.

She'd applied a shiny clear nail hardener too. And whitening on the ends.

The weak sunshine scattered the last of the year's komorebi through the last of the leaves. Her hand was painted with moving bubbles of it.

"Do you spend all your time looking at the details of other people?"

I hung my head.

"Well. Not all people. Just some. Gomen."

"Me."

"Yes."

She looked at me, that hard yet gentle neutral expression that was impossible to fathom and which I loved to hate. Or hated to love, I could never decide which.

"I am a little less stressed these days."

"Oh. Glad to hear it," then a very dumb thought came to me but it popped out before I could stop it, "Why?"

She stood up, examined the back of her hand a second longer before slipping her empty lunchbox under her arm. She turned and before leaving for class, looked over her shoulder, looked down at me.

As she tilted her head down her face fell into shadow and the long curtains of beautiful hair hung down and framed her face.

"Guess."

And she went.

- - - oOo - - -

I sat with fallen leaves for company. She'd always bitten her nails. They were her trademark, especially odd since in all other ways she took pride in her appearance. She could stand there in PE kit and look like a catwalk model. Her beauty and pale clear skin and straight back and dark slanting eyes, that prettiest of all noses and her dress sense, how she'd keep to winter thigh socks when no-one else did.

A girl with style.

Yet she bit her nails.

I had always wondered about that. Some stress outlet it was, but so strong that she let it impinge upon and damage her otherwise stylish exterior.

Only now, in the last couple of weeks, she'd stopped biting them. Either the stress was being handled some other way inside her.

Or it had left her.

- - - oOo - - -

_20 - 21 August 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Four, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	65. Wouldn't You Want To Go Off Into A Dream

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Five – Wouldn't You Want To Go Off Into A Dream?  
(Yume no naka e ittemitai to omoimasen ka?)**

_You fill up my senses like a night in the forest,  
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain,  
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean,  
You fill up my senses.  
Come fill me again. _

_Come let me love you, let me give my life to you,  
Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms,  
Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you,  
Come let me love you,  
Come, love me again. _

_- John Denver, Annie's Song_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

_Look for a thing until you find it and your labour will not be in vain._

_- Chinese proverb_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
All afternoon through our classes I saw those fingernails, longer and smooth and pretty and shiny and wondered about the change that had come about to cause her, a fanatical fingernail-nibbler, to stop.

Whatever it was, it had to be good news, didn't it?

It was. I found out that night.

We had gone to bed and I was as usual snuggled down in my customary position, my face pressed down below her chin, my lips against her collarbone, her lips and breath in my hair.

I was beginning that gentle slide into comfortable warm unconsciousness when she spoke.

"Are you asleep?"

"No."

"Can I be there tonight?"

I lifted my head.

"Where?"

"Down there, under you, below your neck."

She'd never asked me that before. It was always I who sought refuge against her, and she who held me. The absurdity of it came to me in a hot burst of guilt. She'd been the one hurting and lonely with a heart weighed down. She'd come to my house asking to be comforted. She'd had the silent scream on her lips. And yet, in this room, on this floor, in this warm space our bodies made, it was she who comforted me, she who held me against her, I who burrowed away hiding from the world and secure in a place I'd always craved and never known. A lump came in my throat, realisation of what I had done, how she in her need had been turned aside by me. By mine. I should be the one comforting her.

I pushed back, my mind and heart a guilty whirl.

"Gomen nasai. I'm in your place. Forgive me, forgive me, Mahorin. Onegai, you should be here. Come. Of course, come."

She said nothing. For two weeks she had silently held me and comforted me when it was she who was hurting. I put a hand to the back of her neck and drew her against my throat. A sigh came from her, a rattle it was as though of release. Her mouth touched against my neck and I held her to me.

"Shush, it's alright. This is your place now."

She said only five more words that night, of which this was one.

"Tadaima."

"Okaerinasai," I breathed happier than I'd ever been, "okaerinasai, okaerinasai… okaeri."

Her hand came up and a finger pressed across my lips, _shush._

The finger withdrew.

The hand that owned the finger drew it down my chin and jaw and the side of my neck. It reached my shoulder and turned aside and was joined by other fingers. These swept down my arm until, above my elbow her hand pushed against me, pushing me away, rolling me onto my back. I let her push me, not knowing what she wanted but happy that she wanted something, perhaps to lie on me, use me as a pillow. Let me be that. The hand left my arm and came onto my side and my lower ribs. Then, my heart expecting nothing and my mind assuming sleep was almost here, it moved again. It slid up just a few inches and came onto my chest and rested there, cupping my shape and holding my bumping heart beneath those gentle fingers.

My eyes snapped open and I lay there staring at the ceiling, my mind jangling, my breath jetting through my nose, my body jumping with hope and fear.

"Maho…?"

For her answer her hand moved and the pads of her fingers ran across me and I became instantly hard. She gripped gently and squeezed.

"Ma…?"

Her name died on my lips as I felt pleasure begin. Calmness and love and warmth and drowsiness and tranquility had been in that room. Now pleasure came. Warm and urgent and gushing, spinning in my breast behind the place her fingers pinched me and lower down, much lower at my centre where my deep core responded and began to open and come to life.

"Uh…"

"Sshhh…"

The fingers and the hand continued to touch and explore and gently test me, pressing, stroking, delineating the circumference, the texture, the stiffness, the size and softness of that part of me that rested on my ribcage.

She discovered what happened if she pinched me there, and pulled and twisted. I turned my face to hers and gurgling helplessly, kissing her hair with my moans, my right arm coming up and squeezing her shoulder, my left I flung up over the pillow leaving that side of me free to be explored by that wonderful hand.

My breath sucked in and blew out, my lungs filling, my chest rising and falling, blood flowed around my body, my vibrating heart pulsing and pushing it, my nerve endings sending electric signals to my brain where the synapses converted these tiny pulses into sensation and my mind interpreted the roaring ocean of sensation as feelings and emotions.

And I became merely those feelings, merely those emotions, merely a prisoner of my lover, merely a creature of hope and pleasure and happiness.

"My goodnight kiss," she informed me, so seriously and calmly and quietly, pushing herself up on her elbow and lowering her mouth not to mine but to the scalding hot hard points of me, now the one, now the other, at first with infinite gentleness and then, her hand squeezing harder and crushing my soft flesh into painful aching fistfuls where first her tongue swirled seas of smooth songs and then her teeth bit and nipped little passionate stinging greetings that caused me to catch my breath and gasp, my lungs hitching in surprise at how wonderful the pain of her bites could be.

And then…

And then my memory becomes unsure…

More happened, much more, but the thing I soon became, a thing without the ability to measure those feelings, a thing that responded with groans and gasps, a thing with open pores, sweating and writhing, a thing that moved in response to touches and kisses, a thing that felt the pleasure of being finally accepted by another soul, a soul so close to me and who had, for so many weeks and months been distant. So distant she had been, sat at her desk, the prettiest of chins resting in the most elegant of hands, the calmest most infuriating green-blue of eyes seeing me pass before her in hope and longing. How had she made this journey? This strange unhurried dance from distant classmate to gang leader, to loser in a childish battle of schoolgirl wills, to friend, to karaoke partner and study partner, to confidant of my blackest most painful fears and memories, to polite but distant recipient of my clumsy confession of love, to weeping abandoned thing in my arms on a rooftop, to confused broken-hearted refugee at my doorstep, to reluctant bed mate and companion. To this. My God, to this? How had it happened?

How do these journeys happen?

And why?

What drives us?

The need to be loved, the need to love. To be respected and grant respect, to be affirmed and give loving affirmation. To want and be wanted. To touch and be touched, to hold and be held.

To take and to give.

To be and to be with someone.

We cannot live alone. Our hearts shrivel and die like flowers without water. Maho had been with the one she loved. His circumstances parted them and left her as a flower without water. And it was me, strangest of strange days this was that I, another girl, became the life giving pool at which she drank.

And I was grateful. I was so happy to be her pool, her water.

Drink of me.

And she drank, she drank at my pool, and I lay open to her and willing, willing to give of anything she chose to take. She took it that night. Having enjoyed my chest she left it, sore in two places from her teasing teeth and wet from her lapping tongue and singing from her kissing lips. Down she moved, in the darkness and the blue stillness of that room she slid, kneeling a little and pushing the sheet off me, down to my knees. And turning and sitting on one hip she looked at me, and the burning core of me, already wet and open. She lay her fingers on my stomach and led them down, down and down into me. I moved my other arm and pushed my knuckles between my teeth and bit down on them so as not to cry out. I twisted my head away for some reason; partly in shame and partly in delight and partly because I was saying my thanks to her and didn't want her to see me so grateful, so utterly thankful that life could grant me this wish, a wish I had never dared would come true.

And she drank, she dipped her head and came against me and I went.

And at that point I can tell you no more for I don't remember.

Asapin took me up a steep mountain. It was a physical sensation as though of muscles straining in a difficult climb. A thing that encompassed my body, but nothing more. What he did was beautiful but it felt driven by physical things – touches, nerve bundles, muscles, wetness and the idea of it being a mountain where at the top I knelt and gave myself up to pleasure was a physical concept. A male domain.

That night as Maho brazenly pushed my limbs apart and gave me what I craved it wasn't at all physical. I felt no touches or sensations, the experience was entirely emotional. And when I finished, when it was over and I returned to the place where she'd been sitting patiently waiting for me to come back and smiling at me in the dark... I came back not with a pounding heart, gasping lungs, sweating skin and a burning core but with a need to love this person more than I had ever loved anything. A need to give and give and give, a need to hold her, serve her, provide for her, comfort her, help her, simply _be_ for her and ensure that, no matter how small a thing it might be, every part of her life under this roof and beside me when she walked with me or opposite me when she ate with me, or studied with me, she would lack for not one thing. Not one.

In my spirit I prostrated myself to her.

She came back up the bed dark like a night animal, a fox perhaps. In the gloom I could see no expression but I didn't need to, her act had told me all I needed to know about her feelings. She lay back down against my sweat-cooling body and placed her head on my breast, the crown of her hair came again under my chin. One of her legs lifted over and came between mine which still lay thrown apart. Her thigh pressed into me where I ached. She lifted that hand back to where it had started and cupped me, soft and protective.

I kissed her hair, but it was she who said it.

"Arigato gozaimasu…"

My body cooled, my heart beat slowed, my breathing slackened and my mind rested. My arms came about her and hugged.

But my life changed.

Things now would never be the same.

I didn't want them to be.

I lay stroking her hair and murmuring my love to her. She merely sighed, and fell asleep.

In the place she should be, the place I needed her, the place that for two years, became hers.

- - - oOo - - -

The next morning's weak sunlight finds me on the floor tangled up in a sheet and a Maho; this never felt awkward when I was a kid and my older sister would take naps with me like this every other day; but I'm pretty sure that now the awkward feeling I have is due entirely to the older girl's breath on the side of my neck, and her hand which is comforting me, tucked deeply into and pressing gently to a place normally reserved for my own fingers.

I want to stir and go, my body demands the bathroom. But she is sleeping and I cannot disturb her, this morning of all mornings she is more deserving than ever of these last few minutes of sleep. I twist my head about, the alarm clock tells me I must endure my full bladder another ten minutes which I do because I have vowed to place myself at her feet and put all her needs before my own.

And she needs sleep.

I lay, feeling her fingers against me in my special place. In her sleep she twitches a little and those fingers, so closely pressing, twitch too.

I forget my bladder.

The alarm clock rings.

_Damn._

I reach up awkwardly and shut it up. Her face, mumbling about the light and seeking a dark place pushes against my armpit and snuggles deeply in. I'm shocked. Armpits are not the places I would expect anyone to seek comfort and rest, especially given the amount of sweat this one was producing last night.

But Maho isn't anyone.

She isn't like other people and my armpit seems to fulfill her every need right now, even down to a need to plant little kisses there and talk to it.

I let her. I am honoured to let her.

I sigh and squirm, partly at her tickling kisses and partly because my bladder requires less romantic attention.

I pull her hand from between my legs and move away, whispering apologies, kissing her cheek.

"Gomen. I woke you."

Her eyes open. She says nothing, merely watches me.

"Do you forgive me?" I ask.

"Does Sakana love me?"

"Yes. I love you."

"Ureshii. Then I forgive you."(1)

I don't dress, but go naked to use the toilet and shower. For the first time since the night she arrived I am moving between rooms without being clothed.

I don't care.

I'm in love.

I finish and go into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

I hear the toilet in use, then the shower running.

I'm scrambling eggs and she comes up behind me wrapped in a fluffy towel and hugs me.

"Ohayo," I greet her.

"Ohayo."

"Sleep well?"

"Beautifully. You?"

"Like a baby in her mothers arms."

"Bleurgh, you sappy loser."

She tousles my hair.

"What do you want? Coffee? Tea...?" I can't help but add the traditional ending, "…or me?"

She kisses my shoulder. Her arms lift up from hugging my stomach to hold my breasts. She squeezes briefly.

"You. But we'll be late. So I'll settle for coffee."

She moves away and pours water from the just-boiled kettle, adds instant, stirs and drinks it black, hugging the scalding mug to her toweled chest. She leans a hip against the worksurface and watches me.

"Getting late in the year now."

"Yes," I agree.

"Need to put the central heating on."

"Oh?"

She looks down at my front.

"You're cold."

I look too.

"No I'm not," I say, "In fact the very opposite."

"Put something on, you'll burn yourself."

"You can rub cream on the burns."

"You're impossible," she says, "you can't go round like that."

"Do I embarrass you?"

"Of course not, you were the one embarrassed at first."

"Why then?"

"Because nothing," she takes the plate of toast and eggs I offer her and sits at the table, nurses her coffee mug in her palms, "will get done around here."

I spoon up a plate of eggs for myself, pour coffee, bring my meal to the table, sit, eat.

She watches me.

I'm excited. I admit it. Being naked in front of her. But she's right. If she were like this too, nothing _would _get done. The thought of us skipping school, staying at home and doing it… for _days_…

_God, control yourself. _

Breakfast over I reluctantly put on school uniform, and then she does, after I've left the bedroom, still not letting me see her unclothed.

No matter. In your own good time. I can wait.

- - - oOo - - -

The walk to school is lovely. It's cooler now and we wear overcoats. I have a thick dark green woolen duffel coat with hood and wooden toggles, English style. I love it, it's so warm. Maho, as you'd expect, is stylish in a hip-length cashmere with a big floppy collar she turns up, wrap-closed with a self-coloured belt. It still shows her skirt, those thigh socks and those two inches of bare leg. Her trademark. How could she hide it?

"You know, if it gets too cold there is a bus we can catch. It stops at the bottom of my road."

"I know," she replies in her plain speaking way, "but walking takes longer."

And as if that has closed the subject (which she knows it has) she reaches for my hand and takes it, squeezing it and kicking through the leaves she leads me by the hand on a journey whose destination I can only guess at.

School is good. I enjoy it. Especially the walk there and back.

And the Kyoto school trip is coming up. Five days. In a hotel. I fill with eager anticipation over that.

- - - oOo - - -

That night it was the same. She touched me, kissed me, made me writhe and cry out, pleasured me. And at the end, again, me gasping and wet and happy, she snuggled under my throat, head on my breast, holding me.

I asked her if I could do it for her and she merely said "you already are," and I lay there wondering if there was still some part of her barrier in place preventing her giving herself completely.

And that is how it was night after night. She wanted to touch me, see and hear and taste my delight. And refused my request to give her release. I never asked why. She would tell me her reasons when she wished. I would not pry or poke, I would let her take what she needed from this friendship.

Perhaps she didn't want me ever to touch her? Perhaps she did intend to save herself for his return? I fretted about that, because I had so much I wanted to give her. I wanted so much to please her, give back what she was taking. But in time it would happen, I felt sure.

In time, all things would grow. Or be healed.

- - - oOo - - -

_21 - 23 August 2007_

_(1) Ureshii – I'm happy._

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Five, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	66. Twenty Seven Months

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Six – Twenty Seven Months**

_It's you _

_Who puts me in the magic position, darling now  
You put me in the magic position,  
To live, to learn, to love in the major key._

_And I know how you've hurt  
And been dragged through the dirt,  
But c'mon get back up  
It's the time to live.  
So give your love to me,  
I'm gonna keep it carefully  
Deep in the treasure chest below my breast. _

_- Patrick Wolf, The Magic Position _

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
_On sensations:_

My fingertips become lightly numbed. It spreads throughout my body like blood circulating and a sense of bliss fills me from my core to the very surface, it coats my surface like a sheen, a warmth. I don't have to check. This feeling is her near me. My body physically responds even though I cannot see nor hear her. I know when she comes near. No matter where she is, I can always sense her presence. Is she, who captivates me, the one with such special powers? Or is it me, so in love with her, who affects her? Or is it both of us, both our minds, our hearts, our special needs that reach out and affect the other, changing them completely into someone new?

- - - oOo - - -

_On emotions:_

A brand new emotion bloomed within me. It spread throughout me and ruled my whole body. How was I ever able to be normal when I was with her? I can't even breathe. Is this even possible? In the spring when I first saw her and from that day the very thought of her ruled my heart, now it's different. These days, these nights together, they change me. I am changing. I am being changed. I go on each day being changed more, again, over and over. I've fallen in love all over again with the same person.

- - - oOo - - -

_On silence:_

It seems strange to me how Maho can sometimes be so completely silent for hours at a time, that I wonder how it was that she ever spoke enough words to tell me how she feels, then I recall that it's so often the case with her that words are irrelevant: she need only turn her face to me, look past that beautiful black curtain of hair, and raise one gentle eyebrow for me to know that even in her silence, even in her hours of doing nothing but study algebra, or trig, or chem., when that eyebrow silently rises and sweetly curves in response to my chiding "but _when_ are you going to talk to me?", that I know that talking is an irrelevance in the scheme of how happy she can possibly be.

And yet, it confuses and puzzles me too, at times, that given her reliance on such long silent days, there can be times when she needs me close and holding her and speaking long monologues of mumbling assurances to her, that no matter what, I won't _ever_ go, because doing so would kill me.

- - - oOo - - -

_On Asapin:_

He hadn't phoned me for two weeks and I guessed why. I hadn't phoned him either and I felt terrible about that. We met in school one day in mid October. Just in a corridor while he was on his way over from the other block. I told him I didn't think I would see him outside of school again, just the two of us. He stood quietly and looked at me, a long careful gaze it was.

"I can see the change in you. You walk like a different person. Even when she's not with you I think actually she is. I can't see her, no-one else can. But she's with you. In your heart. Isn't she?"

"Yes. All the time, no matter where I am. Asapin, I'm so much in love. I don't think she loves me, I know she's only using me while her man is away, but I don't mind. It'll be a long time and who knows, she may change her mind. I may be able to keep her forever."

"I'm pleased that you're happy, you look wonderful, your face is lit up. You finally got out of the furniture store and found your music shop."

I smiled, the silly boy, still remembering that discussion.

"I did. I found exactly the CD I wanted."

"But be careful, if she doesn't love you back. If she stays faithful to him, it is going to be hard when she goes. Onegai… I'm always here, come to me if you need me."

"Arigato… and gomen nasai… about us. I used you. But I'm very grateful, you taught me lots of things, not just about how a person likes to be touched – although that was fun, but about how to treat someone, how to respect their silences and moods, how to encourage and trust and be a friend. You were wonderful to me. I'll never forget."

He took my hands in his, lowered his face and kissed my forehead.

"Arigato, Sakana, no-one has ever ditched me so beautifully."

"I'm not ditching you…"

"I know, but we've changed, you have a new person in your life now and I will leave you to enjoy her. But I'm around, if you need me. Oh… and have this… I carry it with me all the time, but I don't need it now. I've learned my lesson. I don't want to upset you but if she never loves you back… well, be careful."

He reached into his back pocket and got out his wallet. Flipping it open he drew out an old piece of newsprint, rather creased and grubby. He unfolded it and gave it to me.

"You know you asked me if the girls I'd known in the past, if I'd ever loved any of them, and I said no. That I'm waiting for my special lady to come along one day. All my girlfriends understood that and none of them fell in love with me either, we just had fun with each other for a while and then we'd move on. It was what we wanted, young people enjoying themselves without complications. You remember?"

"I remember."

"Well I said there was one girl who fell in love with me, and I didn't love her back. She knew I wouldn't be able to. I told her, there was no deception on my part. We knew each other for four months in the last year of my middle school, the whole of the first semester. I split up with her just before the summer vacation, last week of July."

I read the article. A middle school student, a girl, Tsushima Yoko, bright and happy and academically promising had stepped out in front of a bus outside her home, dying in the ambulance on the way to hospital half an hour later. It was suicide. The bus driver was reported as saying he saw her watching the bus approach, just as if she was going to cross the road, but instead of waiting for the bus to go by she simply and calmly took three paces right out in front of it and stood there. The newspaper clipping was dated 17 August 1994, the accident had been the previous day.

I stared at the piece of paper. I knew what he was saying to me with it.

"This was a year before I met you. The date – it was the day I came to your house! When we… in your garden. In the storm…"

"Yes. And she did that after loving someone who couldn't love her back after only four months."

Without further comment he turned and walked away.

- - - oOo - - -

_On mothers:_

"Yes, mom. Yes. Yes, I'm fine. No. No, don't worry. It's great here. Yes, Sakana is fantastic..."

Maho glanced at me, I stopped getting breakfast ready and went over to her to show her how fantastic I was by leaning against the opposite door post wearing a smile and my pink above-the-knee bed socks. And nothing else. She scowled at me and pretended I wasn't distracting her.

"…Yes I am eating well! Stop worrying!" Maho moved the phone to her other shoulder and winked at me, accepting a cup of coffee, "Sure, yes I will, mom. And how's dad? Okay I hope? Good. The launch of the new candy sticks went well…?"

I dipped a finger in the sugary foam on the top of my mug of hot chocolate and put the finger slowly in my mouth and sucked it. Maho began to go pink.

"Uh-huh, yes arigato, I got the box, but you knew I wouldn't eat it. I handed it around at school... everyone says arigato…"

I dipped the finger back in the foam and this time wiped it on my nipple. Dip again, I finger painted the other nipple. Maho was watching my finger.

"…Sure. I am. Well, must go, dinners ready. Yeah, bye!"

She flipped her mobile shut.

"Dinner?" I asked.

She looked at me.

"Did I say dinner?"

"You did, and it's seven in the morning."

"Uh, I was distracted."

She looked down at my front.

"Oh dear, Mahorin," I sighed, "I seem to have spilled my hot chocolate. You wouldn't like to wipe it off me would you?"

She went over to the kitchen side and got the dish cloth.

"With your tongue?" I clarified, pouting at her.

"No, use this you careless girl. And behave will you? Or we'll be late for school. _Again_."

Later, on the way to school.

"So your mom is okay?"

"Yeah."

"She's happy with you leaving home?"

"Oh yeah, she thinks I've moved in with a girl friend who's in my class and everything's all fine and dandy. She just likes me to check back with base a couple of times a week."

"So she didn't want you moving in with a guy and sleeping with him…?"

"No."

I smiled.

"How ironic."

"A little, yeah. Let go of me, we're getting near school."

Reluctantly I let her hand go. Mine seemed empty without it. I wanted us to come out at school and tell everyone. I'm sure most people had guessed now, but having to avoid doing anything within a mile radius of school was getting to be a pain. We might be walking out by the sports pitches and this time of year it was cold and hardly anyone went out there, but we might catch a girl and boy under a tree kissing deeply and it bothered me that we couldn't do that at school. I wanted to. I was becoming comfortable with it now. All our close friends knew – Asapin, Yukino, Arima, Tsubaki and the rest. We'd told them (and got lots of hugs from everyone – except Arima, he just went red and mumbled his congratulations), but I wanted to be totally open about it and anyone in school who didn't like the idea could go hang themselves.

But Maho held back. She worried it would get back to her mom. I was prepared to give her time and space. But it was there, this different need we had, our first disagreement.

- - - oOo - - -

_On underwear:_

Three weeks into October, a rainy Friday evening. Maho was tidying up our knicker drawer. I'd just brought in the tea tray.

"What's this?"

I strode over to where she was sorting through her underwear and picked up the peach coloured satin and lace suspender belt.

"You don't wear this stuff so you?"

"Of course. I actually wore it a couple of times for Takashi but he, being the oh-so-bloody-reserved gentleman he is, didn't take me back to his apartment, didn't undress me and didn't…"

She stopped.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I should have kept my mouth shut."

She took the pretty garment from me and looked at it.

"I don't suppose I'll wear it now. Next time I see him I'll probably have grown and it won't fit."

"Wear it for me then."

I blurted it out, not really thinking. I was just spewing out words to try and be kind, words to show I cared. But this time they came out all wrong. Quite definitely wrong.

I still hadn't touched her, I'd not laid a finger on her. All we did was kiss, and even these kisses remained chaste. My hugging arms had descended once or twice so that my hands had caressed her bottom but still, every single night she pleasured me and refused to accept anything in return. Some mornings she would touch and kiss me too, leaving me gasping and exhausted while she nimbly got up to shower and make breakfast.

Physically I could not imagine being more satisfied. Mentally I was crying out.

I was coming to dislike this. It was so unfair. Why didn't she want me to do anything for her?

I had still not even seen her undressed. Not even in her underwear. And I was often naked around the house, trying to draw her out, but something was broken here wasn't it? Another barrier.

"You've got one haven't you? The black one Asaba gave you on your birthday."

She brought me back from my worries.

"Yeah. I've never worn it. I wear the bra and panties but I don't have any stockings and I've never even worn them before, so…"

"Really? Okay, tomorrow. I'll take you shopping. Buy you some."

A warm bead of something bloomed low down inside me. I pressed my legs together. When I shopped for underwear it was routine, dull. I bought practical things. Pretty, yes, but practical. When Asapin was with me it was outrageous, and quite frankly embarrassing. He would insist on waving bright red thongs about and things in black leather with buckles on. But the thought of Maho buying me something, something feminine and dainty and sexy... Somehow when she suggested it, it just seemed rude. But nice rude. The thought made me hot. No other word to describe it, the simple thought of it started me off on that climb into the foothills of my favourite mountain.

"Alright, I'd like that."

"Good. And afterwards we can dress up. You can wear them. Go out to dinner maybe."

"That would be nice. But only if you wear yours."

She gave me a look.

"That's very rude of you. And I thought you were a nice girl, innocent and pure."

I gave her a look straight back.

"You are joking? How can you stand there and even entertain such ideas?"

"Well you've never made a pass at me."

"You don't want me to."

"Who said so?"

"You did. You do. I've asked you lots of times. At night. Afterwards. You know, after you've…"

"Made you come?"

"_Maho!_"

She'd never used such language before. I went pink.

"You're embarrassed? By a little word?"

"It's nothing to do with the word it's the fact you're talking about such things. You never do. We never do…"

I trailed off and looked down.

"Well, why don't we then?"

She was looking at me calmly, in that way. Now she was annoying me.

"I don't know how to read you some days, Mahorin. You're a closed book to me. Your expression…"

"You're too shy Kanahrin, you should take what you want. You might be surprised. People may be more willing to give than you think."

"You would? You'd let me?"

"Tomorrow. Let's have a date. Our special date. I'll take you shopping and buy you some stockings. I'll book us a table at Han's, you know that really swanky Chinese just the other side of the station. We can dress up for dinner, do the whole thing. And then…"

"Why? Why now? Why the change in heart?"

"Just time, Kanahrin, just time passing. I haven't been sure, I didn't know what I wanted, whether I wanted you to touch me. But now…"

"You do?"

She actually hung her head. I had never seen her look shy before. She was so pretty like that, she looked three or four years younger, sweet and vulnerable. My heart went out to her. She was beautiful.

"Bring me home," she said, in a small smoky voice, not her usual voice, "Take me to bed… Make love to me," she looked up at me, "When I touch you and you cry out and you thrash around… You're beautiful. Kanahrin, when you come you're so beautiful. I want you to do that to me."

"Maho…"

I went to her and hugged her, squeezing tight.

"Yes, I want to, I want to love you and see you do that."

"Let's make it special. Will you do that for me?"

"How?"

"Let's sleep separately tonight."

"Like bride and groom before a wedding?"

"Sort of, only this'll be bride and bride. Do you want to?"

"Spend the night alone? No. Be your bride?" I smiled, "Do you need to ask?"

- - - oOo - - -

_On shopping:_

And next morning she took me shopping, our first time out together other than walking around my neighbourhood or going to school. We walked arm in arm and I laughed and she smiled and we had a great time. We had coffee and went in music stores and bookstores, then had a light lunch and later looked at lots of lovely things, beautiful sensuous things and she insisted on paying. She bought me a lovely three piece set of underwear in the palest pink, it was filmy and see through and had a pretty flower pattern and there were bows on it and ribbons and gossamer panels and there was almost nothing of it, apart from its price, which was outrageous.

She treated herself to something that I fell in love with the moment I saw it. A black silk nightgown, ankle length with a long split up one side to the hip and a back so low it hardly existed. It was heavenly, silk has amazing properties when it's warmed by human skin. It changes and becomes alive. I love it but can't afford it.

"Oh, Maho, it's _beautiful_. I love it!"

"But look at the price."

"I'm worth it!"

"It's for me!"

"No, you'd just be wearing it, it's for me."

"You'll just want to take it off me."

"Money well spent then."

So she bought it, and she bought several pairs of stockings too, skintone for both of us to go with her peach suspender belt and my pink one and black stockings for me. Very expensive ones with back seams and all the special reinforcing and stitching. They were gorgeous and you had to buy ones sized for the foot and leg, they weren't as stretchy like tights are.

"You're spending so much!"

"Having a dad who owns a big chain of sweet shops has its advantages. He loves to dote on me and won't mind at all."

- - - oOo - - -

_On teasing:_

On the train on the way home I hugged her and we chatted happily. She used her mobile to book a table for later.

"There, all sorted. I've booked a taxi for seven thirty. We just have to get ready."

"I'm already ready," I said, pressing my thighs together and chuckling at her affronted scowl.

"Ryusaki Sakana you are a dirty little girl!"

"It's how you like me isn't it?"

Her frown deepened and she folded her arms and looked out the window.

I pushed my head down under her arm and wiggling and giggling pushed up inside it like a cute burrowing bunny rabbit.

"What are you doing?"

"Loving you. Now wipe that ugly frown off your face and kiss me!"

"No! Not here!"

"Later then?"

"Maybe…"

"Only maybe?"

"Kanahrin, will you stop it!"

"No. Not till you kiss me."

"This is not the place."

"Where then?"

And she stopped and gave me such a funny look. She wasn't serious or cross but… hm… I think she was planning something.

"What?" I frowned at her.

"Nothing," and she looked away across the train carriage, a small hint of amusement playing at the corners of that gorgeous mouth.

"Tell me!"

"You'll have to be patient. Now stop it."

"I hate you."

"I thought you loved me."

"I changed my mind."

"You don't love me any more?" She looked at me again, one eyebrow raised, mocking me.

"No. I decided. You're horrible."

"Oh, shall I cancel dinner then?"

I turned away, my turn to fold my arms.

"If you want."

"And afterwards – shall I cancel afterwards too?" Her voice was softening, deepening, teasing me.

"Humph!" I tightened my arms and wore a rebellious pout.

"And take the nightgown back to the store? I mean, if you don't want the _afterwards_…"

"I might eat dinner…" I said, sulkily, (but mostly not wanting her to _not_ wear the nightgown), "_If_ you're nice to me."

"So you'll be nice to me? In return?" and she turned and pressed up against me, now she was wiggling cutely against my folded arms, trying to break my barrier.

"Maybe…"

"Because…"

I looked at her, she was making big eyes at me. I have never seen Maho make big eyes. I stared at her. She fluttered her eyelids. I gaped. She was captivating. An iceberg couldn't resist.

"…after you've eaten dinner…"

"What?" my voice softer, my mini-rebellion over.

"…I want you to eat me."

- - - oOo - - -

_On dressing up:_

I had died.

And gone to heaven.

I must have.

Creatures this wonderful cannot possibly walk the earth.

One of them was in my hallway near the entryway.

I stood and looked at the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And I include a naked aroused toffee-skinned Asapin in that.

I couldn't do anything, not even pick my jaw up off the floor.

And when this creature – this vision – moved it was even more distracting.

She came to me and put out a hand, one forefinger pressed up under my chin. She closed my mouth. The jaw snapped shut.

"There was a draught in here," she observed.

"Mahorin… my word. Wow. You look great. Stunning. I mean…"

"You like?"

I nodded, like one of those nodding dogs in the backs of cars. Her finger came back and pressed under my jaw again.

"Stop it. You'll make me motion-sick."

She wore a green Chinese sheath dress, a cheongsam, not a proper one but a modern take on the style. It was the most amazing colour I'd ever seen. The green of fir trees, a rich deep colour but not as dark as bottle green. It had a silvery tint to it, hence why I thought of fir trees. The green of it and her green-blue eyes and her black hair… well forgive me if words fail me, it suited her perfectly. It had a stand up collar and was split at one side to high on the thigh. The flower pattern on it was a mix of oranges, pinks, peaches and yellows. It sounds a mess but I assure you it wasn't, the colours worked beautifully together against the deep silver-green. The dress was trimmed in peach piping around collar and hem and up the side split. It was shiny like these satin dresses are and completely clingy, cut beautifully to her figure. It was both sophisticated and outrageously sexy – no, downright rude – at the same time. Her hair was up in the same way she'd had it when I'd gone round to her house in the summer, gathered tightly at the sides and scooped at the back up onto the crown of her head and held there by a peach coloured plastic hair clamp from which she had tied little green and orange ribbons that hung down to her shoulder. The ends of hair sticking up and forwards in that same fan shape.

She ran her gaze appreciatively over me.

"Lovely. You look heavenly. Turn round for me."

I did so. When I finished the turn and looked at her again she had a slightly odd expression on her face. I've seen it before on Asapin's face, that slightly hooded look. I was pretty sure I knew what it meant.

"Will I do?" I asked

"Perfectly."

Compared to Maho I was dressed rather plainly. I'd bought a little black dress and worn it once when I'd gone clubbing with Asapin and I wore it tonight because I wanted everything to be in black, and this was the nicest thing I had. It was rather short though and I'd had to make sure the stockings were pulled right up high on my legs by shortening the suspender drops so you couldn't see a hint of the welts. It was a man-made shiny fibre and quite clingy but the skirt of it was cut ruched and had lots of material, the hem being uneven. It had thin straps and a low front that did good things for my shape. I'd thrown a chiffon wrap over my shoulders. I really needed black gloves but didn't have any. And high heels but I didn't have any of those either so my flat black pumps would have to do.

Maho wore green high-heeled sandals so she was now _another_ two or three inches taller than me.

We stood in silence waiting for the taxi. I held my little black clutch bag in front of me in both hands and felt vulnerable. The stockings were unusual to wear. Unlike tights they left your crotch uncovered, everything was accessible. Front and back. Very sensible in a washroom but I just felt – exposed. Available. It was such a different sensation. I liked it. And they looked so sexy. They made me feel rude.

Maho looked at me frankly and openly and wore that look. I felt like she was imagining me without the dress on. That didn't help.

Not one bit.

- - - oOo - - -

_On table manners:_

It was wonderful. It wasn't just the marvelous restaurant or the food, although that was amazing too. We didn't eat much, my stomach was full of butterflies anyway and I definitely wanted to avoid overeating. We had just a mixed platter starter and then crispy duck. After that we merely shared a vegetable chow mein and rice. But what a chow mein, the finest I've ever tasted. But you know, it wasn't the food. It sounds clichéd but perhaps these clichés are clichés because they are true. It was the company. We had a whale of a time. Maho was in such an odd mood, she actually told jokes and I have never heard her tell jokes before, we laughed and laughed till the tears flowed. And then at other times, in the blink of an eye the atmosphere would become charged with such tender romance or sexual tension it made my eyes water in other ways.

"I've never had crispy duck before," she said solemnly.

"Really? Never?"

_Surely not? I can't believe that._

"No. What do I do with all these bits?"

"I'll show you."

I took a pancake and spooned hoi sin sauce onto it, smoothing it around with the back of the spoon. With my chopsticks I picked up a few of the dried slices of duck and then added the shredded spring onion and sliced cucumber. I rolled the pancake up into a cigar.

"Here," I held it out for her.

She leaned forwards and opened her mouth.

"Feed me."

I looked at her, at her mouth. She'd put a lovely pale pink lipstick on tonight that matched part of the floral scheme of the cheongsam. I stared at her lips. I wanted not to feed her but to kiss her. She waited, watching me while I sat there lost in her, drowning in her.

"I'm hungry," she added, and something in the way she said it told me she didn't mean food.

I went pink, I felt the blush start at my ears and cheeks and go creeping down to my neck and throat and down even to my bosom.

And looking at me she winked, a big fat slow wink that made my head spin. I used my fingers and leaning forwards across the table pushed the end of the rolled pancake between her lips. She lifted a hand and held my wrist, steadying it. She bit and chewed, still holding my hand in place.

Her tongue came out and licked a tiny smear of hoi sin away…

I could feel it beginning inside me, at my mid-section, as it always does, that little warm fluttering glow and then the moisture. Oh, Maho…

She pulled my hand to her again and took another bite. I felt something on my leg, low down against the inside of my calf. Her toes. She'd slipped off her sandal and was stroking my leg. I began to melt.

"Lovely," she said softly, "It tastes lovely. The sauce is unusual. Sharp and aromatic."

Then…

"It reminds me of you."

"Maho…" my voice was breathy.

"Yes?"

Her toes slid up and touched the side of my knee, behind my knee. I slid a little forward in my seat. She caressed me there.

"I love you."

She smiled.

"That's lucky."

"And I want you…"

"That's lucky too," she smiled, teasing, her toes slid higher.

"Please… not here. It's too much, too nice."

"It would be a shame to stop now, we haven't had the main course yet. We can't stop before the main course you know…"

Everything had two meanings. I was right on the edge of my seat now, my knees apart. I was biting into a pancake but only as distraction. If I was chewing, it made it easier to stifle a moan.

The toes slid higher.

"Maho, please… stop."

"Stop?" that wicked smile.

"More…"

"Make your mind up. Shall I stop? Or go on? I can reach a little further I think."

"Please… touch me…"

And she did. Her toes arrived above my stocking top and seared my bare skin. They slowly moved to the place my body burned, where I needed her touch. I stared at her, she slowly chewed the pancake, still holding my wrist prisoner. The light fluttering pressure at my groin became my whole world, that and her eyes and those pink lips, and her hand that gripped mine.

"Nice," she spoke as though studying a kitten in a pet shop window.

"W-what?" I spoke as though ill, and struggling to breathe.

"Make me another. You do it so well."

"Yes… of, of course."

"Only this time, more sauce would you? I think we need more sauce. The dish is a little dry…"

I reached for the pancake, the spoon of sauce, the food and made up another for her while all the time the gentle oh-so-mindlessly-teasing pressure between my legs right over the most sensitive point of me sent me closer to the edge of reason.

Somehow I managed it, and held the second (but not so well assembled) duck pancake out for her.

Again her warm hand reached for my wrist which was now shaking. She steadied it, gripping firmly, holding me prisoner. Prisoner in her grip, prisoner in her eyes, prisoner in my seat, my heat. It was good the table had a long table cloth that reached almost to the floor, since my knees were thrust wide apart now, my crotch on the edge of my seat and my other hand, hidden under my napkin was squeezing my breast.

"Hm…" she smiled, licking more sauce off her lip, "Lovely. You do this so well."

"I do?" I gasped.

"Hm. Nice and moist. Is that enough? Do you want to finish now?"

"No, not here. Take me home, onegai…"

Her eyes widened at me and a wicked smile lit up that face, the face I would die for.

"We have our main course to come yet."

"Oh."

My exclamation wasn't in response to her comment but a discovery that her big toe had a long toenail.

"We can't have you finishing until after the main course…"

"Onegai…"

I'm moaning, losing control. How did she ever become this wicked? Did she used to do this… _to him_? And still he didn't take her to bed? My God, a man with an iron will.

"And then there's pudding too. But I think we can enjoy pudding at home, hm?"

"Maho…"

"You'd like that? Pudding at home?"

In answer I merely roll my eyes and bite my napkin. I have to pull back beyond the reach of her stockinged toes. Too much. And way too rude.

She smiles and bites again into the soft duck pancake.

"I never knew Chinese food could be so much fun…"

And it goes on…

- - - oOo - - -

_On passion:_

We burst through the doorway almost at a run and collapsed giggling and eager against the wall, her back against it, head thrown back, laughing. My palms pressed either side of her head.

The taxi ride back had been sweet torture, my centre aflame and her hand on my leg, fingers inquisitive and high up exploring where nylon ends and flesh begins. I bit my knuckle to keep quiet and the taxi driver kept looking at us in his mirror, she whispering in my ear the rudest, _rudest_ things.

We half giggled, half ran up the path and fell through the door.

Inside while passion roared and promised to overtake us we struggled to kick off shoes, unbuckle sandals, such is the culture conditioning of being Japanese, no shoes in the house. We failed. Gasping and laughing she lost her balance, slid down the wall and dragged me over with her across the entry way step, the back of her head bouncing off the wooden floor with a nasty sounding "boink!"

"Ow!" she cursed, her eyes showing surprise, then pain.

I pushed myself off her. Pushed up, palms on wood flooring.

"Where?"

"Owwwww…" she moaned theatrically.

I rested on my elbows over her while our fronts pressed deliciously together. With my hands I turned her head and rubbed fingers on her scalp.

"Ahh, higher. Mmm, yes there."

I rubbed gently, "Better?"

"Needs kissing better…"

Need you ask?

I dipped my head to the back of hers, kissed. Her hair was fragrant, a mixture of Arpegè, shampoo and Maho, warm and earthy. I kissed again, lower.

"Hm, and the back of my neck. That hurts."

I kissed there.

"It hurts a lot," she murmured.

More kisses, slower, gentler, deeper.

"Better?

"Hm. And side… side of my neck," whispering now.

"Here?"

"Hmmm…"

Where a pulse beat under her flesh.

"Jaw. Hm, I think I hurt my jaw…"

I kissed her jaw.

"Cheek…"

I kissed there too.

"My mouth," gentle now, and faint, breathy, hoping, "my lips hurt. Kiss my lips."

I lifted my face from hers, looked at her carefully.

"Maho, I love you," the words were not spoken, my lips made them silently.

She stared at me, didn't move, didn't say anything but her arms lifted and her hands held my head, either side of my face.

And then, the tenderest request I have ever heard,

"Kanahrin, I hurt. Make the hurt go away, make it go… Onegai…"

And I did. I tried to. My mouth to hers, my lips to hers, so soft, so beautiful, I could drown in them, I could enter and never come back…

I broke the kiss.

"You know," she said, breaths rushing against my mouth, I once told you not to use your tongue. I'd damn well bite it off."

"Yes, you did, I remember."

"Well, if I did that now… how would you, later on, lick me?"

"I see," I responded as though a detective discovering an important clue, "So if I do this…"

And I did it.

"…and this…"

And I did that too.

"…You won't mind?"

"No, not at all."

"Won't bite my tongue?"

"No."

"Not even if I do this?" and I put my mouth back and penetrated her like a boy penetrates a girl. Her tongue responded and was there, fighting mine, dragging mine in willingly, excitingly.

"No," she said, gasping and breaking away, "I'll put up with it."

I smiled.

"And this?"

And I returned for more, deeper, harder, forcing a small moan from her, a sound that began to send me away to that lovely hot wet exciting place.

"Mmm…"

She broke the kiss. Her eyes were dark and wide and moist.

"And here…", she continued, "I hurt here. My heart hurts…"

And she took my hand in hers and placed it on her.

I pressed my fingers over the wonderful softness of her, the liquid curving warmth. The satin cheongsam was thin, her underwear also and I could already feel the stiff peak of her.

"I ache there," she said, "kiss it better... onegai."

"Yes. I want to. But… not here."

"Take me to bed then you silly woman, I don't do hallways."

"Oh? One day I'll change that. I'll have you suddenly on this floor when you don't expect it."

"You, Ryusaki Kanahrin are such a naughty girl. I don't think I should be doing this with you. Me being an innocent virgin and all."

"Are you?"

"A virgin?"

"No, innocent."

She smiled and looked aside, "No, not really. You corrupted me. You are corrupting me."

I smiled back and kissed her again, the side of her face, her hair, the slightly pointed tip of her beautiful ear, that captivating beauty spot under her eye.

"That's alright then. Because what I want to do to you now would definitely have corrupted you."

"You corrupt beautifully, Kanahrin. Lead me astray."

I rose up off her, pushed away and sat up.

"My sandal," she complained, "I never got the other one off."

I turned and sat over the edge of the entryway step and reached for her leg and swung it across my lap and undid the slim straps of the sandal and let it drop. I lifted her foot in my hands and kissed it, kissed her pretty painted toes. I wanted to kiss all of her, all of her was magical and fragrant. I needed to kiss everywhere. The sheath dress gaped open, the side split revealing her leg and a slice of bare thigh above her stocking. I began to kiss up her leg, pushing my nose where earlier, on me, she had touched her toes, along the gentle curve of her calf, feeling the firm muscle there, behind her knee in that warm hollow, so pretty. Up the outside of her thigh. I wanted to go inside but the dress was too restricting. Her leg was firm and smooth, my nose and lips and tongue skated up the nylon until I found white delightful skin.

"Kana… please, not here. I want this to be right."

I understood. With an effort I tore my lips away from her and stood up. I squatted and reached for her hands, lifting her to me.

Without comment I led her by the hand the same way Asapin had led me, the same way she had led me, weeks ago across my bedroom threshold. She had slept last night in the library, I in my bedroom, alone. But I had thought ahead and left my bed down, put on a clean pillow case and clean sheet. I slid the shouji aside. And leading her by the hand,

"Come."

"Yes, I want to."

"Maho!"

I turned, she was grinning like an idiot.

"Baka! Mood, Maho, mood!" I squeaked at her, "It's all about mood. You're spoiling it."

"Shall I go then?"

"Don't you go all teasing on me again, like on the train."

"You don't want that? You don't like fun?"

"Yes, fun is fine in the right place, tonight I want serious. Tonight I want romance, don't you get it?"

"I hope so," she smiled, pressing against me and pushing me up against my wardrobe doors, "I want to get it. Give it to me."

"Ma-," and my words were cut off again by her mouth.

She was impossible, hopelessly erotic one minute and hopelessly hopeless the next.

"Gomen, I'm just in a funny mood. Call it first time nerves if you like."

"It's not your first time."

"On the receiving end it is. So, gomen."

"Well, I want to see you. Wait."

I went to the futon and knelt on it, switched on my bedside light and the room was lit by the warm glow of its rose pink shade. The futon moved and I felt her behind me, close. A warm hand was on my shoulder. It caressed there, moved to the nape of my neck and stroked again then descended to find the catch and zip of my dress. With a purr the zip was drawn down. I remained still, kneeling on all fours, my hands on the floor.

"Let me…" she asked.

"Yes."

Her delicate touch again at my shoulders, sliding the straps off and down my arms. I knelt up and the dress fell off my front.

"Move your knees. Lift that one."

"Yes."

"More."

"Gomen."

"A bit more. Ow, that's my hand."

"Gomen, Maho, gomen…"

By lifting first one knee, then the other she pulled the little black dress down and off my legs. I heard a sound as it was thrown into a far corner. I knelt back down on all fours, waiting. Her hand came again on my shoulder blades, fingers running down my spine, caressing. I shivered with pleasure as goosebumps went down my back. The fingers dipped down to my waist and out again onto the flare of my hips and traced down further still, over my panties and came to rest, cupping my bottom, most of which the ridiculously tiny undergarment left uncovered.

Lips kissed my hip, my waist, my spine, the very base of my spine where the small dimples are just above the panty elastic. Her fingers began to move around the curve of my bottom, circling, up over the base of my spine and down and under again. Under… oh so close, cupping me.

I put my head down, I sank down and rested my face on the futon, my bottom in the air, I shuffled my stockinged knees apart.

"Yes," I murmured, "Onegai, touch me…"

"You're so pretty. Such a pretty bottom. Pretty underwear."

She kissed me then, low down on the curve of me where her fingers were. Through the lace of my panties, and lower. On hot soft skin. Her fingers traced the groove that divided me, down, down, so slowly, so agonizingly good she was at this, she who knew so little other than her times with me these last three weeks and her attempts to goad her boyfriend into action. Her fingertips reached that place, that certain tender eager place that Asapin loved to touch and penetrate. The place he knew would get me hot and squealing quickly. The gentle light touch of this girl there sent me. I couldn't help but release a loud helpless moan, my elbows now were on the futon, my face between my forearms. I must have looked quite a sight but I didn't care.

The fingers stopped and pressed again more firmly.

"Yes…," I said, moaning again. _My God, Maho, onegai… so good... just there…_

"You like that?"

"Yes."

"Being touched? There?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Interesting. Kinky."

"Don't! Embarrassing me!"

"Don't be silly, how can something so beautiful be embarrassing?"

"It is? What me liking you touching there?"

"Hm. Lovely. Such a sweet place, so fragrant…"

Her fingers reached up to the waist band of the silly tiny scrap of black lace and nylon and pulled down. I lifted my knees and she slid the flimsy garment down and off, it joined my dress in some far corner.

Her fingers came back, stroking, caressing. And then… My God and then… her tongue. There! Right there! Where Asapin so loved to skewer me on one or two of his fingers and his twisting hand would make me squeal and whine and writhe flopping uselessly like a fish on a hook. Maho kissed me there and licked me.

"Oh God! Urgh!"

"Is that good? You like?" teasing, always teasing.

"Yesss…"

"My, you _are _a naughty girl."

Her tongue came back onto me in that rudest of places, so sensitive, so tender, making me tingle and after wetting me then her fingers came there, sliding through the wetness she had made.

She dipped her hand lower and onto my female place, scooping up moisture among my moans and wiping the slickness back up and over the place she was interested in.

"And this? How about this?"

Tickling, pushing a finger against… and then in, gently, pushing deeper…

"Maho…! Oh!"

I knelt up, thighs upright and parted and I swung around to her from the waist. Her other hand came onto my stomach, smoothed quickly down my belly and then in one beautiful fast motion cupped me where I was scalding hot and ready and damp and then penetrated, one finger, two, in deep, so deep, her thumb scraping deliciously over the blazing point of me. Swirling faster and faster.

I started to go, to fly, to give in to the beauty of her touch. I reached around with one hand and cupped her breast, squeezed, my other arm holding her around the shoulders. I found her mouth with mine and drank her in, my moans and gasps gurgling in her throat, her tongue came into me and then she was there, deep in me spearing me in three separate places and I gave up and crying out and gripping her shoulders I cried in joy as she took me and juddering and shuddering on her fingers I convulsed in pleasure, letting go of her mouth, throwing my head back and screaming in delight.

"Maho, Maho… Maho…!"

I flopped against her, spent and weak, happy and used. She was so good at this. Her fingers stayed deep in me, no longer moving but still piercing me to my very core.

"I could feel you, gripping me, squeezing. That was a powerful one."

"Hmmm…" I faded a little, leaning against her, arms around her neck, kissing my thanks over her mouth and chin, cheeks and eyes, hair and ears, "Arigato gozaimasu, arigato gozaimasu, arigato gozaimasu…"

"Shush… now. I take it that was nice? Having me in you… there?"

"Hm, my favourite."

"_Is it?_"

Surprise in her voice.

"Yes."

"Who does that to you there then?"

Guilty realisation of what I'd said. Too late to go back now. Admit it, she must have guessed.

"Asapin," I whisper weakly against her hair.

"What, in here?" and she wiggled her finger.

"Uh! Yes… and…"

"And here too?" more wiggles.

"Hmm…"

"So, now I understand, all those looks and comments after the summer. Now I get it. You did then… with him…"

"Let's forget about that. Don't distract me. I'll tell you all that another time. I want… to do something for you."

"I was hoping you would."

"I want to see you. I've never seen you."

"Yes you have, changing at school, in the showers."

"You know what I mean. Not quick glances with everyone hiding behind towels. I want to _see_ you. I want to _look_."

"Hmm…," she smiled in anticipation, "I want you to."

"I want to undress you."

"Yes…"

My fingers went to the buttons of the cheongsam, it closed on the bias across the upper bust to down under the right armpit and then by further buttons down to the side split. The buttons were little pink woven rose buds. The whole thing literally would unwrap and come off whether she was kneeling, standing on lying on her back. I began to undo the buttons and gravity caused the upper bodice to flop down revealing her throat and a hint of bust. Reluctantly she pulled her fingers out of me, slowly, gently and I whined and moaned. She lifted her arm and I worked down under it, planting kisses on the soft underside of her arm as I went. Apart from her mouth and the hugs I often gave her I had never touched her anywhere before today. This was all new territory for me, secret, soft and sweet smelling, the first time in my life I'd undressed another girl. Touching Maho, undressing Maho. My dream come true. I didn't want to pinch myself, I might wake up.

As we knelt in front of each other and I worked at her buttons she reached for the front clasp of my bra and popped it open, pushing the thin lacy thing down off my shoulders.

"That's better," she cupped my chest, "now I can really see you."

"Your fingers…"

"What?"

"Wet. With me."

"They are."

"Onegai, I want to…"

I paused in my undressing of her and opened my mouth. Head back, waiting. A chick in a nest. She looked at me.

"Bad girl," she whispered, "Bad, naughty girl," but even so I could hear the heat and arousal in her voice. She wanted to do this too.

She put her hand out to me, palm down. My wetness coated her fingers, strings of me joined her fingertips together. I so wanted this. So dirty, so sexy. I was reaching a new kind of desire, so brazen, so tensed with lust, so crazy about her that I'd do anything, anything she asked, or wanted to do to me, with me. She lay the fingers on my tongue and holding her gaze steadily I sucked on them.

I had tasted myself many times alone in my bed, it was not a new experience for me, but licking myself off her fingers was. My heart began to bump in my chest again, her beautiful face came close, eyes hooded with longing. She put her face to mine and kissed me, we both kissed and licked her hand together.

"Maho…"

"Hmm, Kana, so…"

"Oh, Maho…"

I went to her again, hugging, kissing deeply a powerful hot writhing connection. She hugged me back, tight, tighter than ever before.

"Everything you do, all that you do to me… so wonderful… arigato," I cuddled her, the happiest girl in the world.

"You're so cute, Kana, so cute. And so rude. I never imagined… But – onegai love me, I need your touch."

I broke away and I continued undoing the buttons down her flank, working into her small waist and out onto her full hip. Her hands came up onto my bare breasts, squeezing, caressing, rubbing my nipples and making me tingle and heat up again. As her hands on me teased and excited me I undid the last button and the cheongsam flopped open.

Hardly able to believe I was seeing what I was seeing I knelt back, my bottom on the futon between my parted heels. She knelt up in front of me and I looked. She was a lovely colour, paler than me and so clear skinned. And for a Japanese she was curvy too. She had a waist about the same as mine I should think but bigger hips, a bigger bottom, I hadn't really noticed how curvy she was, she always wore loose blouses and a shapeless tee shirt long and loosely out over her baggy PE shorts.

I had got a quick look at her bust in the classroom the other day when she'd teased me but she'd been wearing a practical white cotton bra that did a specific job of protecting and holding her when doing PE, it was hardly sexy lingerie. I reached up and slid the open halves of the cheongsam off her shoulders and it flopped silently down to the futon behind her.

What a beautiful shape, what beautiful breasts. I simply looked, I had to.

She held out her arms.

"Cuddle me… ah, you're looking at me makes me shy."

"No… onegai, put your hands on your head."

Shyly she did so and I watched her change shape.

"You're so beautiful."

"Arigato, you're very sweet."

Eyes downcast she went pink which only made her even more gorgeous.

"I want to touch…"

"Yes, touch. Touch me…"

Like a priestess before an altar I raised my hands and lifted her chest, rested the weight of her on my palms. Her pretty peach coloured bra was thin and patterned and a little see-through. I rubbed my thumbs across the points of her and she closed her eyes. I needed to taste... reaching around her I unclipped the garment and slid it off. I threw it aside and lay my hands back on her…

_She is so soft, so wonderfully, wonderfully soft, so feminine. Breasts are the most female of things, nothing else is like them anywhere, not even the female stomach or bottom, so beautiful and so unique in nature. Warm, pliant, heavy, they have their own special delicious motion, and weight. I truly love them, the essence of a girl. Like girl's lips, there is nothing to compare to them. But boys have lips, some are full and soft but breasts – so delightfully unique. Nowhere else in creation is there something so lovely._

Wanting to, I lay my face against them, turning to one side and just happily nuzzling a cheek to her.

"You're so perfect, so pretty. Look…" as if she'd never seen them before I ran my finger tips gently over her nipples, grazing her sensitive skin. She had her eyes closed and drew in breath sharply. Maho has such pretty nipples, the skin so dark, a dark red brown, the circles are small and dainty and the points of them long and thick and right now, so excitingly hard, little pebbles.

"Kana… kiss me…"

It wasn't a request, her hand came onto the back of my head and drew me against her.

And I did, my first time, the first touch of my mouth against another woman. I'll remember it until the day my heart ceases beating. So warm, so exciting. I kissed her, licked and drew the sweet hard little thing between my lips, my teeth nipping her and making her gasp and suck in breath, my hands still cupping and lifting and squeezing.

"Hmm, yes…"

She was happy and I was happy to make her happy. This was where I was meant to be, since the day I was born here it was that I was supposed to lie my head, resting against this person and pleasing her with my presence. Her fingers ran through my hair and became more urgent. I pushed against her harder, nipped and bit harder, drew her into my mouth sucking aggressively.

I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her down and she lay back and lifted her arms over her head and gave herself up to me. This was what it should be like. My life, like this, doing this, this perfect service for this perfect person, demonstrating my love and my devotion, my compassion and my lust, my need and my submission, serving, serving. Devotion. I need to be devoted to this person, Maho, let me…

"Kanahrin, onegai…I need…"

I knew what she needed, I needed no encouragement. I lifted my face off her and kissed her mouth.

"Yes. I want to. Let me please you."

Lower, moving lower across a landscape so pale and clear and sweet, so mysterious its mounds, valleys and sweeping calm fields, the dome of her stomach, so beautiful. I trail my fingers and mouth there, like a wanderer through fields of crops, like an explorer over snow, towards the polar mysteries I go, eager yet nervous. I run my fingers across the satin panel of her suspender belt and reach the cute little peach bow decoration of her panties, and slide lower, lower.

Through the flimsy transparent material I study the mound of her shape with my fingertips and my lips while she makes noises that excite me and declare her own excitement. My touch fuels her and her response, her moans fuel me. We feed each other, the balance is complete and perfect. Lightly I run my fingers over the highest sweetest part of the dome and down and under - just a single fingernail slicing down the hidden line of her divide - and she moans again and her hips lift a little, wanting, wanting. Begging me. I press into her under there and the heat and moisture pour out of her and coat my fingers. Her need has become tangible. I lift my head and dip down and kiss, making small biting gestures against her with my teeth. She tastes like heaven, she smells like the seaside, fresh breezes and the shore and the delightful scents of beaches and saltwater lagoons, she smells of girl. I love it and open my mouth to suck and lick and chew against her. I'm going, I'm no longer making rational decisions, no longer planning ahead. I'm lost in the most fragrant of traps, a maze she is, and I neither know the way out nor care that I may be lost here forever, might die here. In, take me in, into you, my love.

Groaning and gasping her bottom lifts off the futon and on my knees now, having swung around and knelt between hers which are bent brazenly, obscenely, excitingly back I cup my hands under her and lift more and descend onto her with joy.

My fingers reach for the waistband of the sopping wet garment that, although pretty and exciting in itself, is now merely in the way, an unwanted obstruction. I would never normally think of Maho's underwear as an annoyance but right now that's all it is. I pull the material down and she, moaning more, flexes her legs and allows me to see…

I stop and in surprise consider this thing I have found. I am shocked, a discovery I'd not expected. Sensing my pause she asks.

"What? What is it?"

"You… You're…" I'm stunned. It's both unexpected and yet exciting too.

"Kana… is it alright?"

It is alright. It's very alright. It's just a surprise.

She has no hair.

None at all, she's like a baby or a child, smooth.

"You… You haven't… got any…"

"Don't you like it?"

I do…

"Yes! Oh yes! So pretty… but… why, uh, how?"

"For him. In the summer. When I went through my phase of trying anything to interest him. I removed my hair. And of course it was a wasted effort, he never saw it. But liked it, so I kept it like that. I like the feel of it, the look. Do you?"

"Hm, it's lovely, you're so pretty there, a pretty shape."

"It's for you then, my first time…"

"Maho…," I look up at her, "Arigato gozaimasu… you're lovely. I've never seen such a lovely thing. I want…"

And I did what I wanted to do, my fingers traced across that smooth perfect inviting shape and down into that wet, searing hot inviting place, and opening her and dipping my mouth there I did the thing I had dreamed of in a thousand dreams, a thousand delicious aching wanting fantasies. I kissed the place I never thought I'd see. I penetrated with tongue and fingers, I folded the soft parts of her aside to allow me to see and then descend upon that special place, the place where her very centre urged me to kiss and graze my teeth against. I went there, eager to please, eager to feel her pleasure, eager to give her a gift I'd held stored in my heart for far too long.

Far too long… my love…

She accepted my gift, she delighted in it and with gasping writhing cries she thanked me for it.

And I was happy.

It did not take long this act of giving and receiving, a few minutes only. But this was a unique gift, for it could be given not once but with joy again and again, given over and over, and received by her over and over which she did, several times that night and many times on many other nights and days and lazy sunny mornings and relaxing Sunday-paper reading afternoons. Whenever I wanted to give I gave, that was the joy of it. I could give and give as I desired and she, in her turn always happy to receive, in many places and at many times, received. So many times she received and told me, beautifully and loudly how much she loved to receive my gift. In our lovers bed, against the kitchen side, draped over the squishy sofa (either facing me or facing away, she loved to receive my gift either way), in the bath or shower, in my library on a futon by the open shouji among the warm night smells, even in washroom cubicles at school, urgent, fast and naughty, she biting her knuckles to keep from crying out, and even, I'm delighted to say in that place she at first refused to accept my gift, writhing and sweating, her bottom in the air, her face pressed moaning to the wooden floor of my hallway one afternoon after school, coming in, throwing off shoes (having been teasing her, arousing her with touches and words all day) I fell upon her and forced her down, pulling off underwear and nothing else and going down on her while she squealed her resistance only to noisily give herself up to again accept my gift.

As she does so beautifully.

I have never seen a person accept gifts so well, so readily and with such pleasure again and again like an eager greedy happy child…

And I?

I merely give.

And rejoice that I can do so.

I am happy.

I could die tomorrow and would want for nothing.

Not one single thing.

I am the circle, I am complete.

- - - oOo - - -

_On diving:_

She was my coach. She made me dive over and over and over perfecting, always perfecting. No longer practicing. I was leaving my old world and entering another. She taught me how to get the transition right. With kind words, encouraging words and sighs and moans and cries she instructed me.

Like swimming, my dive, my recovery, my first breath. These would determine the whole race, the result depended on this transition being perfect.

I was diving.

Maho was my water. She was the rain that had fallen in my life and made for me a sweet pool, her arms, the unbelievable soft prettiness of her chest, her mouth, her lake. My lake. The lake of my future.

I dived. I swam, I was home. I understood.

- - - oOo - - -

_On confessions:_

"That wasn't the first time."

Her voice was smoky, dark and gentle. She hugged me to her chest, the light was off, the night held us.

I, exhausted and happy, cuddled against her. In my mind her words impacted, surprised me. I turned my head, lifting my cheek from my favourite pillow.

"What?"

"I've done that before."

"When?" I'm shocked, hurt. What is this?

"Loads of times. At Shibuya, in a hotel in the Ginza, even next door to Cincinatta in Kawasaki, down that alleyway."

"What are you saying?"

She shifts and turns her head and manages to look down at me. There is a smile on her face and I know I'm once again her victim.

"Eaten duck. I love it. I eat it every time we go out for Chinese… Ow! Hey!"

She yelps as I pinch a conveniently nearby nipple.

"You said you never had. Don't do that to me!" I curse her, I am again the prisoner of her humour.

"Serves you right, loser."

"Humph!"

"But I never heard you complain."

"That's because I was chewing my napkin to keep from crying out."

"You liked it really didn't you?"

"Making the acquaintance of your toes? Yes."

"Shall we go for Chinese again some time?"

"Yes. Soon."

She hugs me, kisses my hair.

"I have a confession too…"

"Oh?"

"That wasn't my first time either."

"I know. You're the naughty lady who likes to have Asapins fingers in a very rude place."

I blush.

"Not that. I mean, with a girl."

"Really? You're winding me up."

"No. I've done it before. Lots of times."

She is quiet a moment, I can hear the gear wheels turning.

"You must be joking…?"

"Hundreds of times, in my bath, in my bed, even in cubicles at school."

"I don't believe you."

"But you were better. Much better."

"Than who?" her voice accuses.

"How I imagined you would be. Hundreds of times I've touched you, kissed you, made you cry out. In my dreams."

Her arms come around me again holding me to her like she owns me. Which, of course, she does.

"Arigato."

"Dreams are supposed to be the best aren't they? But they're not. You were so much more wonderful tonight than my wildest dreams."

Silently she hugs me tighter.

"Arigato, Maho. For everything."

"Sleep now," she murmurs, "we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"But it's Sunday."

"Yes. A busy day. Lots to do… isn't there lots you want to do?"

I hug her back and wiggle tight against her, snuggling down, reaching again to cup and protect her breast. Yes. Lots I want to do. To her.

"I love you."

"I know you do."

Four short simple words. How I wish she'd say four other words _I love you too_, but she doesn't. Perhaps she never will. But I will hope. I am hope. I am nothing if not hope. One day, perhaps, she'll say them…

- - - oOo - - -

_On afterwards:_

She whispered against my ear, I could feel the ghost of her life flowing across my skin as she spoke.

"Onegai, my sweet Kanahrin. This is only for a short time. You must understand, I want to marry Takashi, my heart hasn't changed. I love being with you, you are so good to me, so loving, so kind, so selfless. You give so much. And you create in me a force that makes me want to give back. Give you so much back. But it can't be forever. I can give you my time in school. Twenty seven months. It's a long time and I'm looking forward to it. I so much want to share myself with you. But… we have a little over two years, that is all. After that, I must say goodbye. Promise me that when it is time to say goodbye you will mean it and it really will be goodbye. When high school ends."

I kissed her hair. There were tears in my eyes. Tears of happiness that she had come to me, tears of joy at being so privileged as to have been given this gift. And tears of sadness at her words. There was still hope. It was a long time. Two years was plenty of time. Much longer than she'd known Takashi. I wanted to change her heart. Perhaps I could.

I have been given a beautiful gift. Twenty seven months. Twenty seven months concealed in layers of the most wonderful warm, fragrant, intriguing, usually silent, often moody, occasionally infuriating but always enchanting rainbow-haired wrapping.

I am a child at Christmas. I have the most marvelous present to open.

In those twenty seven months I want to see inside this puzzling package and learn about the different feel and the different taste of every inch of her body. I want to see and understand and love every corner of her distant quiet reserved calm dark aloof brooding character. I want to know why she smiles so little, why she is so quiet, why she can sit and scowl so often. I love her scowl, her folded arms, her creased brows. Mahorin, let me uncrease them. Let me gently wipe away that scowl. Let me see behind your wall and explore your garden. I want to know what it is like to truly love. I want to be loved. I want to not only feel a lovers arms around me but feel the warmth of another person's care, another person's devotion, another person's respect.

Let me devote these months to you.

Let me give you these months of respect.

Let me love you.

Let me know you.

Let me and you love.

Let me and you know.

Let me…

…in

- - - oOo - - -

_23 - 29 August 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Six, please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	67. You Walked Between The Stones: I Did Not

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Seven – You Walked Between The Stones: I Did Not**

_I may not always love you  
But as long as there are stars above you,  
You'll never need to doubt it.  
I'll make you so sure about it._

_And God only knows what I'd be without you._

_If you should ever leave me  
Though life would still go on believe me,  
The world could show nothing to me,  
So what good would living do me?_

_God only knows what I'd be without you._

- Beach Boys, God Only Knows

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was early December, the Kyoto school trip, we'd organized our groups and what we were going to be doing (or rather Yukino had organized us and everything else). Up to seven in a group, stay together, plan your days, write up your daily trip report, smile nicely at sensei, you represent the school, be good. Blah, de blah, de blah… All very organized and proper.

In a way it sounded boring, walking around dozens of temples and museums and gardens in the freezing cold but there would be something else. In my mind, in my heart I knew that this trip wasn't about going to see a bunch of old shrines, it was about us.

Another step, one more step along the journey. We had a hotel room together, that was a new thing. Something might happen. I hoped it would. I wasn't sure what but something might.

I didn't want this trip to be all nice schoolgirls, organized and boring. I wanted something else.

There were us seven girls in our group, but that hardly limited us. Arima, Asapin and Tonami hung out with us anyway. I think they were in an all boys group but I never saw the others. And after we arrived Shibahime Kazuma joined us. He was the son of Ikeda Hiromi, the lady Tsubasa's father had married, making him Tsubasa's step brother. He and his mother had taken Tsubasa's family name and his transfer to Hokuei happened late in the year some time after he and his mom moved into Tsubasa's house.

I liked Kazuma. A lot. He was a lot of fun. He had ridiculous bleached blonde hair cut spiky and wild, like mine and he'd wear his uniform like it was his duty to rebel, like if he didn't rebel beyond what was reasonable the concept of wayward youth would die out with him. And he smiled and laughed a lot, he'd come out with strange random comments which turned out to be song lyrics that seemed to always be rattling around inside his head like dry peas. He'd come up to me and say things like "A song passes in the clouds, is it one you sang for me?" or "My anchor, it drags and drags me down, be drowned with me in the sea of my past" and most peculiar of all one day he made me choke on my banana with "You tear off my face, I'm yesterday's calendar." But then he'd smile and make jokes too.

I think straight away us girls thought he and Tsubasa would one day get together. It took a long time and their journey was even more traumatic than Yukino and Arima's. You see, Kazuma was a singer. In a band. A rather crappy indie band that was struggling along, like a thousand other small crappy struggling bands in Japan. Called Yin and Yang. They weren't particularly good and I didn't like their grungy post-punk sound; all too screamy and frenzied for my taste. I prefer singing. Call me boring and traditional but when a singer opens his mouth I like to hear a song come out, not the sound of a hundred cats being put through a giant mangle. But Maho loved them. She was a big fan, I never understood why, but when they played in some god-forsaken armpit-humid basement club in Kawasaki or Yokohama or even way out in the pits of Tachikawa, Maho would drag me along, whining and protesting and telling her it was much nicer to be snuggled up in bed than bouncing up and down in a mosh pit with a bunch of unwashed sweaty goths jumping on your toes.

But she wouldn't listen and when she went and began to leap about and scream too it was interesting to see a different side of her. And of course she was always in a good mood afterwards and that would mean a nice long snuggly train ride home.

And a side benefit was that after ninety minutes jumping about and yelling and getting hot and sticky, she smelled and tasted absolutely fantastic.

So it had its good points, I put up with it.

But the problem was Kazuma wasn't a serious student at all. Yes, he was bright and academically strong but it turned out he wanted to sing and he hardly bothered with school at all. He went away on a tour for three months the following year and Tsubasa was left in a right state, very upset and confused, not knowing what was more important to him, her or his music.

- - - oOo - - -

So on a crisp and freezing cold December morning we gathered at the Yaesu gate of the huge main Tokyo station to catch the Shinkansen train to Kyoto. Maho and I were the first there, waiting by the meeting point. Then Tonami showed up and soon after Yukino and Arima. They came together and I couldn't help but wonder if they'd slept together last night, maybe at his house. It's these little thoughts that swirl randomly around in my head and make me who I am.

Then Kawashima-sensei showed up with two or three other sensei and some other students from our class but of the rest of our group and Asapin, there was no sign. The departure time came and we had to board, Yukino though was fretting and nervous over the missing students. She got really worked up about it. That girl's going to give herself an ulcer by the time she's twenty. Arima spoke with Kawashima-sensei and said something about we'd simply have to leave them behind. This wasn't like the worrisome Arima I knew, he was super cool and dry. Hm, maybe Yukino really had sorted him out over the autumn?

We got on board and the final announcements were made, the train was pretty much ready to be sealed when there was a commotion at the gate, the inspectors apparently not wanting to let some late-arriving passengers through. Then someone jumped the barrier, then someone else and in a moment half a dozen people were running across the platform, suitcases and bags flying. The automatic doors were trying to close but Yukino held them open and everyone dived in.

"Whoa!"

"Ooh, yeah, that was fun!"

"Hah, great!"

"Don't do that guys! That's really dangerous!"

"Ah, Yukinon, chill out, we weren't even late – exactly on time!"

"Tsubaki! That was stupid and you know it!" Yukino was really angry, red in the face and yelling.

_Damn it woman, calm down_, I thought.

"Hey, my lovely ladies, how are we this fine winters day, hm?"

"Asapin!"

"My God, what happened?"

"Oh, this?" he brushed his hand smoothly and carelessly through his hair, "Arima thought I should get it cut. What do you think?"

"Well, its very orange."

"Asapin!" I was shocked, "It's _bright_ orange. What did you do that for?"

"I like to be noticed," he said smoothly, sliding up against me.

"Get off! And you don't need to do that to be noticed, you just need to open your mouth."

"Ah, Kanahrin, my sweet little toffee-apple, it'll fade with time anyway so while it's like this I'll make the most of it. Run your fingers through it, I had it layered and thinned out too…"

"Ew, get away from me you freak." I gave him a hard look, "I hope that's the only hair you dyed?"

He smiled, "Why don't you check? I know you want too…" and he swung his hips around as though he were Elvis or somebody.

"Dammit! Get that disgusting boy backside out of my face!" Maho pushed him away, "Go find your own block of seats."

"Yeah, in the next coach, the one marked Perverts Only!" Tsubaki added, pushing him down the train.

"So, you made it?" Maho sat at a window seat, I took the one opposite.

"Looks like it," Tsubaki grinned, sitting beside me, with Tsubasa clinging on next to her, "Great timing, huh?" Rika and Aya sat opposite them. Yukino took hold of Arima and dragged him to a seat next to her, Tonami and Asapin sitting opposite them.

"Well this is cosy," Tsubaki said.

"It was…" Maho growled, "before you lot polluted the place…"

The train accelerated out of Tokyo, quickly leaving the industrial areas and suburbia behind and then swept out southwards onto the coastal plain past farms and rice paddies. Building up effortless speed all the time, the countryside streaked past and Mount Fujiyama in the distance, never moving, watched us. I kept quiet, sitting hands in lap and looking out the window. The rest of them joked and fooled around, eating, throwing food and being noisy.

I still couldn't relax completely in a crowd, so said nothing, keeping my eyes on the flickering countryside and my thoughts to myself. People kept getting up and moving around the train and laughing and being silly but I felt like I wasn't a part of this big party at all.

What had happened in my life in recent weeks seemed to have changed my attitude to my friends. There was something about them now that seemed trivial, superfluous and shallow. As though they and I moved on different tracks now. That sounds so smug and self-righteous but I began to get a sense of what Yukino must feel when she is with the likes of Tsubaki and Aya who party too hard. She has a much more significant thing in her life and I can understand how Arima got cross at Tsubaki with all her 'husband' jokes. Friends are great when you're lonely, you cling and hang around them and they feed your strongest needs. But once you meet a special person your focus shifts to them, in an almost possessive way but also because they feed you in ways that ordinary friends cannot. The skill is to not show this, to not be too close to your special person when you are with your other friends. It was in this that Yukino failed to some extent, although I don't blame her at all and some days it was Tsubaki's fault, making her cheap comments when she and Arima were doing nothing but sit in the same room with us.

But I found it especially hard. At the start of summer when I'd met Yukino and Maho and then all the others I became almost obsessive about them, wanting to meet them all the time and be with them rather than alone. I think that was a lot of the attraction with Asapin – he gave me that special attention I craved. I don't mean the night times, but just that strong tangible focus that intensive close conversation has. I really needed it, couldn't feel complete without it. And then in the autumn when Maho moved in with me my entire being swung about and she became my focus.

I sat there watching trees and houses and cars skim rapidly past my window and realized that I was perhaps hanging on too tight to Maho. Every day she was there, at home and at school. It was only my swimming training that kept us apart. Hm, maybe my strength of obsession was too great? Was it an obsession? I was certainly addicted to her body, to touching her and having her touch me, and addicted to her presence, just having her close and watching her… so, maybe it was a little unhealthy. Maho had no other friends except Yukino and her gang. Perhaps she needed a little space, maybe I should let her go see her indie bands on her own? Was that the secret to a maturing relationship – the two halves feeling free to move about as they each needed?

_Was_ I too clingy?

Maho got up from her seat and went down the train and I sat there listening to the chatter around me. She was gone a while, to the toilet perhaps.

Or was she phoning him? It was mid-morning here, I didn't know what time it would be on the East Coast, possibly evening. Perhaps he was in a restaurant eating, or in bed reading? I put those thoughts away.

"So, anyone know what the hotel is like?"

"It's the Granvia isn't it?"

"No idea. I hope it's a nice one with a big swanky bar and a pool and nice lifts."

"Knowing our school it'll be some cheap roach infested dive."

"It won't be, will it?" Rika's light voiced worried at the conversation.

"Don't worry, Aya will keep the roaches off you, won't you?" Tsubaki teased her.

"Who are you sharing with?" Aya asked her.

"I've got to suffer four nights with Yukino and Tsubasa. I hope Yukino goes to Arima's room though so I can get some decent sleep."

"Hey! I heard that, no mixed sexes in the bedrooms we've been told. Arima and the other boys are all on a different floor anyhow."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to get at him, down the drainpipes or something," Tsubaki never stopped, did she? What was her problem?

"Well he certainly won't be coming to our room," Yukino retorted, "not with you and your big mouth there."

"And Tsubasa, she won't let him in, not to get at you."

"Ah, she'll be in the wardrobe or something."

"Ha!" Tsubaki laughed, "Yeah, she only counts as hand luggage anyway."

"Hm, it's annoying though that they keep the boys and girls separate…"

"Right. But as for Sakana here, well batting for the other team has it's advantages sometimes, eh, Kanahrin? The sensei can't keep girls apart can he?"

I ignored her and kept my face turned away. A Shinto shrine zoomed by. She poked me with her elbow,

"Four nights with your lover, sharing a shower and everything. Hey I wonder if we get twin beds or doubles?"

I went red.

"Tsubaki, pack it in! You're embarrassing her."

"Yeah, enough, Tsubaki, you go way beyond the line sometimes. Leave her alone."

That was Aya. I liked Aya, she was one of the crowd and messed around but she was sensible too. Caring.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. Thigh socks, a Hokuei skirt. The owner of them plopped down into the seat opposite me. The talk stopped at once. When Maho was around Tsubaki never teased me, only when I was on my own was I vulnerable. She knew that if she'd said such things in earshot of the girl who'd just sat opposite me she'd have a black eye now.

I shot Maho a quick glance. She had a cardboard tray in her hands, in it sat two paper coffee cups, two cereal bars. She put them on the small shelf by the window.

"Here. They didn't do lattes I'm afraid, Americano was all they had."

I kept my gaze averted and gave her a small nod.

Our block of seats was quiet for a minute. I could feel people looking at me and Maho. Even now when we were all friends together some of the barriers remained. I was gay. Maho was my lover. We were different to the rest of them. I could feel the thoughts. Unsure, maybe a little mocking, maybe a little afraid. Then Aya started up a conversation about some TV show that was on last night and I felt everyone's gaze and thoughts lift off the two of us by the window.

Bless you Aya. It takes a writer's sensitivity to see that.

Tsubaki got up.

"I'm going to find Tonami, I've got some lunch for him."

I glanced across at the others. Rika caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back.

I picked up my coffee and added cream, stirred. The paper cup was hot so I wrapped the paper napkin around it. I took a sip. As I put it down I noticed something on the napkin. I unwound it and looked. Writing, in ball pen.

"_I'm glad we're going on this trip. I'm really going to enjoy it. Enjoy it with me." _

I stared at the writing as though it were from a fortune cookie.

I looked up. She sat, her coffee cup held to her lips, eyes watching me over it, in the way she does. I blushed and looked down.

I got a pen from my pocket and wrote _"yes, me too."_ And handed it back to her. She looked at it and gave me no reaction but she tucked it away in her pocket and gave me a fresh napkin.

"Don't burn your fingers," she said.

Something made me glance over at Rika again. She was still watching me, if anything her smile even wider now. I smiled back once more (when Rika smiles at you, you just can't remain straight-faced) and went even pinker.

I was glad Tsubaki had gone away.

- - - oOo - - -

It wasn't a long ride to Kyoto, a little under an hour, the bullet train was so fast. We got out of the huge and impressive refurbished Kyoto station and saw our luggage off on an electric transfer vehicle that took guests bags direct from the Shinkansen platforms to the Granvia Hotel built alongside and a part of the station complex.

"That's the Granvia?" Yukino asked, looking up in wonder.

And well she might. It was huge. And new. And modern. And shiny. I just knew it would have a great lounge. And bar. Maybe a pool. And lovely rooms. I'd twisted Maho's arm and got her to bring a swimming costume. Hmmm…

But that was for later. Right now we were sent directly off on our first days' sightseeing. Yukino became the natural leader of our group. She unfolded a map with copious notes scribbled all over it and even a route marked on in red pen.

I groaned at the sight of her seemingly grueling itinerary.

"Yukinon, just because sensei is letting us organize our own tours that doesn't mean you have to take his place." I sounded whiney. _Damn._

"Yeah, come on, lighten up," Tsubaki said, "I want a coffee and cake!" and she set off in the direction of a tea house, Aya, Rika and Tonami in tow.

"Cake," said Tsubasa, determinedly following them.

Yukino muttered something about _girls _and we went after them. After the food it was into the souvenir shops and then time for a green tea ice cream.

"In this weather?" I asked Asapin as he thrust a cone into my hand.

"It's a local thing. Now shut up and enjoy."

"But it's December."

"A mere technicality: eat. You. Will. Have. Fun." And he smiled at me in a slightly demonical way that made me feel small. And funny.

"Yes, sir." I replied and ate ice cream on a breezy grey day in only five degrees Celsius.

It was so cold my fingers hurt. And my nipples.

"Damn, Maho, it's freezing! Can't we find some temple or shrine or something that has a big table of candles in it? Or a fire or something?" I said, tossing the last of my ice cream cone in the trash and folding my arms across my painful chest.

Looking equally frustrated by this crowd of idiots and without a word she grabbed my hand and led me away slipping quickly into the crowd. It wasn't hard, the group was degenerating into chaos already with people going off to do things and then coming back after someone else went. Yukino in the middle of it all threatening extreme trauma to the next person who messed up her itinerary…

Within seconds Maho and I were away through the crowds of visiting students.

She walked quickly, taking long strides, a frown on her face, hauling me along. Almost breathless and having to trot once or twice to keep up I fixed my attention on her. Sometimes, when she's like this she's quite masculine, not at all in looks of course but in the way she makes decisions and takes charge and lacks patience.

Even if I had to run to keep up, it was great. I was feeling better already.

- - - oOo - - -

"Do you know where you're going?" I asked, a little breathless.

"Yes," came the reply but I wasn't sure if she meant she knew her way around… or something else.

"You know Kyoto then?"

"My father was born here. His parents still live here. Not here of course in the old city but out in the suburbs. But when I was a child grandma and grandpa would bring me here and show me the temples and streets and tea houses and gardens. Look…"

We stopped and turned off a main thoroughfare.

And it began.

That strange day, the first of five strange days in Kyoto. Where she and I were with our school party and yet…

…also quite alone, together in this magical city. A place that has since become (after Hokuei High School roof) my favourite place ever.

There was magic in that city, among those houses and tea shops and streets.

With that girl.

For she was there and her spirit in that place was more alive than I'd seen before. More captivating, more beautiful and yet more sad also.

We stood in a small narrow street not more than six or eight feet wide paved with grey limestone blocks and with traditional low wooden houses to either side. Ishibekouji they are called, no wheeled traffic ever comes down them, not even bicycles or handcarts, porters carry everything on shoulder panniers. In the houses many of which were now shops, souvenirs were on sale or foodstuffs or prayer cards or fortune cards and similar trinkets.

We walked slowly along. In the depths of winter off season – one reason the school had booked this trip, I think the hotel deal was a good one – there were fewer tourists. We went along the streets from Ninenzaka to Sannenzaka and began to climb uphill. Over the low rooftops temples and pagoda could be glimpsed. The houses were beautiful, many had small paved courtyards and little shrines in them or water features, delicate Japanese maples and exquisite bonsai. Maho told me many were built in the Edo, Meiji or Taisho periods. I stopped often and simply stood staring at how lovely these little islands of peace must be, their rear courtyards private tiny islands of tranquility right adjacent to the tourist hubbub of Kyoto's preserved district.

"Come, something I want to show you."

She pulled my hand again and we set off uphill and took the wide flight of steps to the main gate of Kiyomizu-dera possibly the most famous temple in Kyoto. I'd seen dozens of pictures of it but never been. It's even more beautiful than any picture can show. It's not brightly painted like Yasaka shrine with its blood red wooden under-roof and glittering gilded lanterns but it just has this powerful dark brooding sleepy woody feel to it. Huge and gloomy yet cozy at the same time. Maho led me out onto the famous veranda supported by hundreds of wooden pillars jutting out over the hillside above the trees and giving a stunning view across the city.

There is a popular expression "to jump off the stage at Kiyomizu" which I think is the Japanese equivalent of the English expression "to take the plunge". This refers to an Edo period tradition that held that, if one were to survive jumping from the stage, one's wish would be granted. Maho told me it was a forty-three foot drop but there was a lot of vegetation below to break your fall.

"People actually jumped?" I asked.

"Oh yes, in the Edo period there were over 230 people who leapt off. Nearly 200 survived, so that's not bad going."

"Why jump?"

"People had much stronger beliefs in the fates and spirits then. Also doing it in such a public place might demonstrate to another person your commitment to something, whether it might be military service or a task you had to do or a lover you wanted to express your faith in."

I looked down. It seemed a very long way, more than the height of a modern house.

"Would you jump?" she asked quietly.

I thought about it. If I could tell her…

…if jumping would be my expression of my love, and doing so might turn her heart around, so that she might stop calling a certain mobile phone number in New York?

Would I jump?

Risk death for her?

I didn't answer.

I squeezed her hand tighter.

She laughed, a sweet chuckling sound.

"I'm teasing you. Gomen, come, something else I want to show you."

Beneath the main hall of Kiyomizu-dera is the waterfall of _Otowa-no-taki_, where three channels of water drop into a pond. Visitors collect the falling water, which is believed to have therapeutic properties, in metal cups on long sticks. It's said that drinking the water of the three streams confers health, long life, and success in studies. Maho took one of the long stick-cups.

"Here." She gathered some water and held the cup out to me. I drank. It was ice cold and tasted metallic, crisp and coppery.

"Your turn."

She laughed and drew away.

"No. I don't need success in studies. I'll be fine."

"Don't you believe in it?"

"Of course. But you need it more than I, let's not dilute all the good fortune on me."

She smiled and leaned on the wooden rail and looked down at the crowds passing below us on the far side of the pond into which the water fell. I looked at her and was struck by something sad. Calm and peaceful yes, but sad too. Her face was that of a lonely person. Someone missing a special friend.

Even though I was with her, and she was happy, she was lonely too.

I turned away.

"I'm hungry. Let's eat."

"Sure. One more thing though," and once again her hand and smiling voice took me and drew me along with her.

She took me into another part of the temple complex to the shrine of _Jishu-jinja_, dedicated to _Okuninushino-Mikoto_, a god of love and "good matches". _Jishu-jinja_ has the pair of "love stones" placed sixty feet apart across a courtyard. The idea is that single people attempt to walk between them with their eyes closed. Success in reaching the other stone, eyes closed, is taken as a presage that the pilgrim will find love. You can be guided in this journey, but this is taken to mean that an intermediary will be needed in the matchmaking. The person you love can assist you as well.

"Go on," she said, "walk."

"Don't be silly, it's just an old tradition, it doesn't mean anything."

"No harm doing it then."

"Stop it! You're being silly!"

"I'll do it then."

She sat down on one of the big boulders, the size of a low stool and looked across the large space. Sixty feet seemed a huge distance, the other stone looked tiny. There were a good few tourists here wandering about but something invisible kept them from walking between the two stones, some barrier, some… force. A few couples and school children had stopped and were watching us.

I wasn't sure if I wanted Maho to go at all. Who was in her mind? With whom in love did she want success? I stood behind her.

"Should you be blindfolded?" I asked.

"I won't cheat, that would be pointless. But if you want to."

I got my white cotton handkerchief out of my pocket. It was trimmed with little embroidered strawberries. Isn't it funny how you recall the most trivial details? Little random things like that stick in your head like the broken bits of dreams.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"Absolutely."

_Why?_

"Alright. Focus on the other stone. Fix its position in your mind…"

She sat silently a minute while I laid my hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently.

"Right. I'm ready."

I pulled her long hair back, making a ponytail of it and folding the cloth into a long thin banner placed it over her eyes and tied it behind her head. At the last moment I bent down and kissed the crown of her head.

"Maho?"

"Hm?"

"Good luck," I whispered.

_What for? To find the other stone? Or be lucky in love?_

She stood up and keeping her hands quite still by her sides she stepped forwards. I gave her a little push. I stayed behind her at the stone watching her. She was very sure, she hardly faltered and hardly deviated from the straight line at all. I noticed she took tiny steps and went slowly, perhaps she was counting something? The distance perhaps? Had her clever mind, able to twist math problems easily until she could effortlessly wring the answers out, calculated how many of her steps were needed? She was like an arrow shot from a bow, slow and steady yes but straight as a rail. About two feet from the far boulder she paused for a second as though thinking, then took one more step and bent forward.

Her palms lay flat on the stone, dead centre. She turned and sat down.

A middle-aged couple to one side broke out in applause, then someone else did. She pulled off the blindfold and smiled at me. I looked back at her but couldn't return her smile. A wave of sadness washed over me. I knew she hadn't walked that walk for me, but for someone else. I couldn't meet her gaze and looked at my feet.

"Come on, your turn!"

"No, I can't!"

"Don't be silly, it's easy."

"Maho, onegai…"

And I didn't. I didn't test myself with that walk. But I don't think it matters, does it? It's only a silly old tradition. And besides, not doing it won't mean you _won't_ find love will it?

We went back down the hill and she took me along _Hanami-koji_ street in the Gion district, famous for its geisha. But here there were lots of restaurants and tea shops, and she took me in. We left our shoes at the door and she treated me to a traditional tea ceremony, the lady who served us wore kimono and her movements were impeccable and economic. We knelt on the tatami and sipped tea in silence. I relaxed and allowed myself to unwind. Just holding the teacup up to my lips and breathing in the warm fragrant infusion did wonders for me.

We stayed there nearly an hour and hardly said a word. So restful, such a good way to unwind. I'd never once done that properly before. And my earlier appetite seemed to have abated in the almost Zen-like calm of the tea house.

"They do kabuki theatre here too in Gion," Maho informed me as we left, "we might not be able to get to see a show but I'll check and book tickets if there's a performance tomorrow evening."

There was. And she did. And I wondered what all this was about. Why was she doing this? Taking me around all these lovely places, being my private tour guide? Treating me to such amazing experiences. And all the time, everywhere, holding my hand. I had no complaints, it was lovely, the connection of our hands made me feel accepted and protected. I just wondered… why?

- - - oOo - - -

We were due at the hotel at five and we got there with quarter of an hour to spare.

The reception foyer or lounge of the Granvia is amazing. A huge space with a mushroomy sandy coloured carpet and all the furnishings in dark brown – leather sofas and low dark wood tables with cushions on the sofas in sand and yellow and orange. There was a row of tall uplighters in the centre of the wide room that had frosted glass panels above in a geodesic pattern that cast intriguing shadows on the blue ceiling. There were quite big trees in the room growing from the floor in pebbled areas and there was a lot of shiny marble and bright abstract art prints. It really was amazing, a set from a sci-fi movie. We collapsed onto one of the sofas and it swallowed us up, it was the softest loveliest chair I'd ever sat on. We flopped together and I put an arm around Maho and we just rested there for a while.

I closed my eyes. I could have gone to sleep it was so nice.

The others came in and soon the foyer was full of a couple of hundred loud kids and a dozen sensei all arranging rooms and handing out keys. Maho and I ignored them, let all the noise flow around us. We sat quite still cuddled together and said nothing. I loved it. I could really get into this girl's approach to life of sitting quietly just watching.

Our luggage had been put in the rooms earlier. Yukino came over and gave us our key.

"Dinner at seven thirty," she said, "and after that we gather again here for our report assignments, to write up our trip. It's going to have a strong history and religious slant in case you hadn't guessed."

"Hmm…" the half sleeping person said against my shoulder, "that's your department Kanahrin. You do the assignments, I'll copy them and make it up to you."

That sounded fine by me. I could think of several ways for her to pay me. Right now, in ten minutes time, scrubbing my back seemed like a good way to start.

"Yukino, do you know if we're allowed to use the pool?"

"Oh, yeah, that's the other thing I wanted to tell you. Normally the pool, gym, steam room and Jacuzzi are only for use by guests who are at least twenty."

"Steam room?" I said.

"Jacuzzi?" the snuggly bundle next to me sat up.

"But," Yukino went on, ignoring us, "because it's the end of season and the hotel gave the school a good deal, and because Hokuei is the best non-private school in Tokyo… and because us students are mature and well behaved and perfect, the hotel has agreed to allow the Hokuei party to use those exclusive facilities."

"Well behaved?" I said.

"They've not met Tsubasa…" Maho added.

"Or Tsubaki…"

"Or Aya…"

"Or Asapin…"

"Or Yukinon…"

"In fact," I said, "they haven't got a clue what they're letting themselves in for."

Yukino rolled her eyes,

"Well it's up to us, if we're rowdy we'll be banned and probably the students who caused the trouble will be sent home, so it's up to you."

"No, as our group leader its up to _you_, Yukinon, _you_ tell Tsubasa and Tsubaki and all the other degenerates to watch out!"

"This can't possibly last," Maho murmured, still resting against me.

"Steam room…" I said again.

"Jacuzzi…" she repeated, making of it a mantra.

"Let's go now. A quick shower and come straight down."

"Hm," she got up, suddenly full of enthusiasm and held out her hand to me, "some days you do have good ideas. Come on, let's go, the whole facility is bound to be off limits by tomorrow."

"Or destroyed…"

- - - oOo - - -

The room was amazing, huge and with two full sized double beds. I'd never seen a hotel room so big. The window looked out onto a night time panorama of the modern part of Kyoto, a sea of lights and moving traffic far below. The room walls were orange, the carpet and bedding in a neutral stone colour.

"No wonder this trip cost us so much," I commented looking into drawers and fiddling with the TV remote.

"Oh my God…"

"What?"

I went to the bathroom doorway where Maho was standing and peered over her shoulder.

"Oh, Maho… it's beautiful."

It was. Not a big room but stunningly appointed with a big kidney shaped bath, a traditional tiled wet room with _two_ shower handles, _two_ sinks and next door a small separate toilet cubicle. Up to waist height the bathroom was dark grey marble, highly polished, above this line it was all white tiles, one whole wall behind the sinks being a giant mirror. All the fittings were bright polished chrome.

We stood there like two kids at Christmas.

"Damn," she said

"What?"

"We're only here four nights."

"That sucks."

"Better make the most of it then," and she turned and pulled hurriedly at my skirt zip, "I'll soap you if you soap me."

I scrambled to undress her, began to unbutton my shirt, "Hm, yes…"

- - - oOo - - -

We didn't have a very long swim that first evening. Our shower took a little longer than we anticipated but we did manage to get down to the pool by six which gave us an hour. And the pool too was mind-blowingly good. It was enormous with no less than three diving points at the deeper end, with proper swimming lane markers too.

The steam room was off to one side with its own shower area and the Jacuzzi was huge, big enough for about eight and set down into the floor at one end of the pool.

We were like silly little kids, trying everything and making squealy happy noises. I'd never even been in a steam room before and it was incredibly hot. I could only stand it for about ten minutes, but showering in cold water afterwards was amazing, you could feel your pores opening up and afterwards I felt so clean. Hm, lovely.

As it turned out Tsubasa and Tsubaki and several others hadn't brought swimming costumes. Some of the Hokuei students had who we knew only slightly from a distance and who were in other classes so most evenings (and some mornings –a quiet swim before breakfast was great to wake you up) Maho and I would go down there and get away from the crowd we knew.

Most evenings there were a few people using the pool and steam room and we found out that you should wear nothing but a towel in there so on the last night not only did we do that but no-one else came in. And I'm simply not going to tell you about that evening. It's very private and it was a lot of fun.

- - - oOo - - -

Dinner at the Granvia – agh, things just got better and better. There were three restaurants serving European food, no less than six Japanese restaurants within the complex and a Chinese restaurant and three bars that also sold snacks. I mean a hotel with thirteen places to eat? I was just blown away by this place.

Those four nights in that hotel, that pool, that amazing bathroom with its twin shower heads – oooh, I get all unnecessary just remembering it all. And those huge beds. Honestly, Kyoto could go hang and leave me in that hotel for the full five days. I could spent a week in there with Maho and not run out of ideas.

- - - oOo - - -

And the days that followed, we watched Kabuki theatre, and the amazing bunraki or puppet theatre which is just stunning, really, the puppeteers are so skilful and the puppets movements so expressive you could be forgiven for thinking you're watching live action. Beautiful. If you've not seen a professional bunraki theatre please go see one. Lovely.

We went to the Kennin temple – the oldest Zen temple in Kyoto with the most beautiful patterned gravel garden. It calms you down just standing and following the lines in the white gravel with your eyes. The Yasaka shrine with bright blood red wooden beams and many ornate gilded lanterns which I've already mentioned. The Nanzen temple, another Zen temple with huge peaceful gardens. The Nijo castle, the Shimogamo shrine, surrounded by gardens and ornamental woodland. Ah, I could go on and on.

And best of all, most days, Maho would sneak me away from the others and give me the most wonderful tours, she was so full of life that week, full of fun too and we'd some days just find a bench in a garden amid the bamboo or the acers and just snuggle up in our thick coats drinking tea from her metal flask and be still for hours. Just. Doing. Nothing.

It was lovely.

The Granvia hotel made a big impression on me.

Kyoto's temples, shrines, houses and gardens made a big impression on me.

Maho made a big impression on me. She was a girl I thought I knew but I realized that week that I'd never even met her before.

- - - oOo - - -

Our last night. We'd swum, been alone in the steam room, then had dinner with the others and stayed in the lounge doing our homework with them, drinking tea or coffee or light drinks and eating nibbles and being silly. Then late in the evening Maho had stood up, saying she was tired. I knew what she meant. I stood also.

"That's my cue. See you all in the morning."

"Good night guys. Don't make too much noise, we're just across the corridor from you!"

"Yeah, right Tsubaki, you sleep well too, okay?"

There were a few small muted cheers as we left.

In the lift we were silent for a while.

"She pisses me off, that woman," Maho, arms folded, spoke to her feet.

"Don't get upset by it. It's our last night, let's enjoy it."

"Why do you put up with it? Yukino tells me she's worse to you when I'm not around."

"It's just me. I'm too shy and thin skinned to bite back. She'd just have more of a go at me."

"One day I'm going to belt her one."

"Not tonight. Tonight, just you and me, hm, onegai?"

She looked at me and gave me a small smile.

"Sure, I want to." She shifted her legs, "Hm, I'm all stubbly again. Would you? For me?"

I did want to. I loved doing that for her, it was one of my favourite ways of serving her.

And doing that after a lovely long shower and soak in the bath together always led to other things. Because when she was smooth I just _needed_ to kiss her there.

And after those other things we lay entwined and the lights were off and the curtains open and the lights of the city lay beneath us and I cuddled up to her, my arms around her, hers around me and our legs wrapped with each other in a warm tired damp tangle.

I was at peace.

"I want you to know," she was saying as I cuddled her, "hm… I expect you want to know. Why I changed my mind?"

I did, but I'd decided a long time back that knowing _why_ wasn't important. All that mattered was that she _had. _Maho had stopped hating me and pushing me away. All the lesbian thing she had discovered about me and then hated, and shown to me how much she hated it, all that… Followed by a period of a month or so, all of September, during which looking back, I could see now that her heart was changing and after pushing me away she began to give me signs that she wanted me back, closer. She dropped hints, the ones during the play were the biggest. And of course I'd wondered why she'd changed. At first it had seemed vital to understand her. But then as the weeks went by it seemed to matter less and less. Because by then I was unfolding and relaxing and flowing into her and our relationship and understanding that what really mattered was simply that she _was_. She was here. With me. Had come home. Wanted to be with me. Wanted me. I stopped caring about the why.

The why was almost an irrelevance. Almost.

"No," I answered, and this time it was the truth (why would I lie? Why would I ever lie to her?), "I don't need to know. Or want to. This is all I want."

And I snuggled closer. This was one of my favourite times and places. I had other favourites too of course. Watching her. While I sat at the kitchen side or on the library sofa and she went about the house exquisitely naked, or perhaps wearing only stockings and a suspender belt. Yes, I liked those days a lot. And there was just the holding. Times when she might be a little upset or down or I might and we would simply hold each other, for ages, saying nothing, merely pressing together. Then there was the kissing. I liked the kissing a lot. Her mouth, the wonderful bee-stung bottom lip of which I would never ever grow tired. I loved to kiss her. On the mouth. And elsewhere, kissing her in other places (of which I had several that I was particularly fond) was one of my favourite things. But along with these, this was one of the best. This, as we were now was lovely. It was _afterwards_, as our bodies cooled and the sweat dried on our naked skin, and she lay on her back, one arm thrown up, the other hugging me against her, and I lay partly on my side and partly on her, my head on the most delightful pillow I could imagine. One of the softest, prettiest pillows of all, that rose and fell with her breaths (now gradually slowing and becoming deeper) and which resonated to the bumping of her heart. And should I need to, my favourite pillow had two places where I could worship should I have that need, and sometimes would, even afterwards. And she might again chide me '_Haven't you had enough?' 'No_,' I would shyly admit (how could I ever have enough?) and my mouth and teeth would return to those places and her breathing would become rougher again and we would resume the dance, the wonders of discovery once more. Discoveries of how sore my tongue and jaw could get before I had to stop; discoveries of just how loud she could scream, if she really tried; discoveries of whether five or six times or more was really her limit – or if we could go _just once more_ (sometimes the night - God sometimes the _weekend _ - wasn't long enough). But yes, I have many favourite places but here on her softly rising and falling and sweetly curved chest when it was over was the best of all.

She stroked my hair, lazily picked her fingers through it, brushed my scalp.

"Well, I want you to know. When I knew my parents were causing difficulties and I might not have him for a long time. A long, long time. I became depressed. And frustrated – I think I told you. Then when I knew he was going away, I think I made my mind up. I would never have done it with a boy, the idea just revolted me, I wanted to save that special experience for him. I was his in that sense. And then the thought of you came along…"

Her fingers paused and I felt her give a little chuckle. My pillow vibrated beautifully and the sound of her happiness rumbled in my ear. I brought my hand up and cupped one of her breasts, ran my fingers across its liquid creamy softness watching it change shape under the pressure of my gentle enquiry. Seeing the tip of it shake as her ribs vibrated to her chuckles.

"…and you were like a dream in a way. Yes, at first I was not attracted to you. You were a good friend but I was never able to be comfortable around you. There was always the fear that you might do something that I'd not like. But over time my thoughts of you changed. Very slowly, over weeks I think, it's hard to say. But I knew from a long way back – early summer - that he and I would not have a complete relationship for a long time. Yes, I tried to entice him but he was too much of a gentleman. I told myself that I didn't see that but really, down inside I think I did.

"So that is where you came in. And I came to you. You were almost scarily convenient. You lived close by, you had your amazing empty house; no interference from parents and complete privacy, what a wonder that is. It was a refuge for me, Kanahrin, away from my mother. You, like me, were hurting and lonely so in your house we could both have someone to hold onto – literally and figuratively – for comfort. And finally, like me you wanted a physical relationship. I wanted to experience times like this. Times of total uninhibited pleasure. I'm so happy I enjoy this with you so much my pretty Kanahrin. I love him so, will always love him and now that I understand another person's physical and spiritual needs I look forward to this with him all the more. You are here to comfort me as well of course. The touching, the serving, the caring, the holding, all these things that are friendship I appreciate them – and you – so much more now.

"And because you were so kind and so patient with me and gave me so much – your house, your clothes, your food, your bed, a place of refuge. A place of friendship. All your words and touches and days, your time. Because you gave me that while asking for nothing in return, not one single thing…"

"Except help with homework."

"Hm, yes, except help with homework… And your place. Your home. A place where we can be alone and relax completely, have privacy, have fun… gosh have such amazing good times… or just be quiet together if we need. It's like a perfect place, so calm, so peaceful to come home to and just do as we like. You never mind what I do or when I do it, or what I wear or even if I wear nothing at all… I appreciate that so much, it's given me the experience of what marriage might be like – looking after a house, cleaning, cooking, laundry and the lovely privacy.

"So, in so many ways you're a dream to me. My dream come true, a sort of… hm, trying to say it nicely without me sounding rude or ungrateful, a sort of free sample. You offered me that. I'm sure you knew what you were offering, didn't you?"

I did. I made no answer though, other than to kiss her softness.

"I'm glad I accepted your offer. I am very happy, so happy I came. And my greatest joy was finding out how much I loved being with you, being with a girl. It's been a very strange journey and I have delighted in discovering everything about you," (her arm slid down to my waist and then lower, cupping and squeezing my bottom), "so I wanted to tell you, it's important for you to know the why of why I'm here, why my heart changed towards you. I also wanted you to know that when the time comes for me to go to him, there will never be another. No other lover, it will be him and me for ever. I want that. Apart from him there will only ever be one other with whom I'll have shared my bed."

She kissed my hair.

"You, Kanahrin, you. You're special to me. You are my dream. This is my thank you."

I lay on my pillow and nuzzled the nearest nipple with my lips, kissing it, drawing it into my mouth and suckling it like a happy baby. My fingers held her other breast but in my heart I knew – dreams are lovely, but eventually, for all of them – morning comes and they fade.

- - - oOo - - -

_2 – 6 September 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Seven, please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	68. A Relationship Less Ordinary

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Eight – A Relationship Less Ordinary**

_Hey, love  
I am a constant satellite  
Of your blazing sun.  
My love_

I obey your law of gravity.  
This is the fate you've carved on me,  
The law of gravity,  
This is the fate you've carved on me. 

_  
- Vienna Teng, Gravity_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
"Tadaima!"

"Okaerinasai!"

I slid the door closed and kicked off my shoes. Our usual exchange had become comfortable and homely. I liked it. It was funny, a greeting children might use to their parents, or husbands to their wives.

And yet here we were using it like we'd been married years.

I liked that.

I liked the familiarity of it, it seemed to be a drop of our glue, holding us together, making us work. Making it work.

This life, these months. And now Christmas and the New Year celebrations were almost here.

"Smells good!"

"Go get changed. Ten minutes!"

"What is it?"

"Curry!"

I stuck my head round the kitchen door.

"Curry?"

"Yeah. One you can eat without an asbestos mouth liner. So go shower."

Maho? Cooking curry. Hm…

The swimming had begin to take over. The professional coach now came to school three times a week (including all of Wednesday afternoon excused from lessons) and I went up to Narita on Friday evening and Saturday mornings. So the only night Maho and I walked home together now was Monday, although some other days she'd come and watch me swim, bring schoolwork or a book or listen to music on her personal CD player, then walk home with me. She usually came to Narita with me on Saturdays though and afterwards we'd shop or have lunch in Shibuya or Shinjuku, maybe catch a movie or walk in the parks so it wasn't all bad.

And she did a lot of the house cleaning now, bless her.

But it had become routine.

It had crept up on us quietly, unnoticed. My swimming practice was a big chunk of my free time. Then when I came home we'd sit and do homework together (which I loved, I so enjoyed watching her write, it was as good as watching someone else dance or sing) and then we'd eat and by then it was often late. We might watch TV or listen to music or go out in the dark wrapped in our thick coats and walk to the park and back. It was nice in the park at night, no-one else around and we might sit and watch the frost forming, feel the grass become brittle and crunchy under our feet, see our white breaths blooming in the crisp night. And we could kiss, we often did, these dark winter nights out here gave us one of the few places we could be lovers in public.

So, sure, the passion was as strong as ever, some Saturdays we'd come home in the afternoons from the city and from the moment we came in, laughing and hugging until Monday morning when we crawled out of bed for school, we'd not stop, hardly even to eat. Some weekends we didn't even wear anything for thirty-six hours. It was so much fun, but what bothered me was the shape of our relationship. It's flavour and the way it rolled along day after day. Always predictable.

Me loving her. Her living here.

Maho had never attended after school clubs and unless there was a neurology lecture at Kawasaki College she wanted to attend or some grungy loud indie band was playing and she'd drag me along for that, the rest of the time it was just… normal.

Loving and romantic and often screamingly sexual but normal. Ordinary.

I decided I hated normal.

But I didn't know what else to expect, or what could be done (or even should be done) to make it un-normal, if there ever was such a thing in a relationship.

Was there?

Are all relationships like this? Marriages like this? _Do_ people become familiar with them?

Or is it me?

What else could I do to get her to love me?

I dried myself and put on my green robe, gave my hair a final vigorous toweling and then spiked it about a bit with my fingers. I loved this hair, so easy. Sitting watching Maho dry hers and run her brush through it for hours, no, I couldn't be doing with all that hassle. Although sitting watching her do it was a bonus, it just took forever.

She'd quietly sit and say nothing for ages, just running her brush through her long straight hair, again and again. It must be a therapy I suppose, like swimming sometimes is for me.

Or bath time.

Time to think.

I wondered what she thought about. She never said. I had a nagging feeling she thought about _him_.

I went into the kitchen diner. Did I describe this room to you before? I can't remember. It's the biggest room in the house, easily. You go in by turning left after the entryway, opposite the library door. The end nearest the door has a big wooden dining table with padded bench seating down both sides. The far end of the table abuts the kitchen worksurface, so it's easy to hand food out and hand dirty dishes back. Part way down the right hand wall is a second shouji, opposite the bathroom and my bedroom. I use that way in, in the mornings.

Behind the worksurface is the main kitchen area with cupboards and oven and hob and fridge freezer behind. To the left the kitchen is partly closed off with the breakfast bar where I usually eat if I'm on my own, or do my homework some days. We used it less now, eating and working at the table or taking our books into the library and studying together at the kotatsu.

To the left was the big picture window that looked out over the small front yard with its car parking space and to the street beyond.

It was a lovely room, the walls brightly painted (by me, in a strong yellow to cheer me up) and I had slowly been buying orange and red kitchen utensils and jars and knick-knacks to complement the warm cheery theme. It was well lit but it wasn't a cozy room. It was just functional. The library was where I went if I felt like relaxing, snuggling up on the sofa in front of the TV.

But tonight the kitchen diner was cozy. The lights were off and the room glowed with candlelight. Tall ones on the table, a row of nightlights along the kitchen side and again on the windowsill. The room was filled by a warm gentle glow, softly flickering. The table was laid for one.

"Oh there you are, come on, sit."

I gaped at her. She'd changed, discarded her jeans and tee shirt. She wore the black silk nightdress.

"What's all this?"

I went in, sat down. She sat next to me.

"Friday special. After your long hard week. All that swimming."

She poured a glass of wine. It amazed me that she was able to buy it, but she looked older than sixteen, two years older, three if she wore make up. Unlike me, I looked younger than my age, it was embarrassing sometimes, particularly at movie theatres.

She lifted the glass and held it for me as I sipped the wine. It was a dry sparkling white, Australian I think. Very nice. Hm, yes, I could gulp that back. It was like lemonade.

"Ready?"

"What for?" I asked.

"My treat."

She picked up her chopsticks and gathering some of the curry onto them and a little rice held the food up to me. I leaned forward and took what she gave.

Maho gave and I took.

Was it always like that? Was that what bothered me?

I should be giving, all the time. Time after time. But here she was at home, cooking, cleaning while I swam.

And she fed me, like a mother feeds a toddler in it's high chair. We used just the one plate, the one pair of chopsticks, she'd take a mouthful and then offer me one. I didn't use my hands at all. I reached for the wine glass but she stopped me with a gentle word and picked it up for me, letting me drink then taking a sip herself. I noticed that she turned the glass and touched her lips to the same place mine had been.

Sharing. Sharing everything.

The curry was lovely. Very mild and sweet. She'd used coconut milk and lots of flaked almonds and there was fruit in there too, sultanas and little chunks of something else, melon maybe, or mango? It was rich and creamy and quite delicious.

"Alright, so you cook a nicer curry than I do."

"Arigato."

"Curry nights are your job now."

"Oh, no," she smiled at me, "I like you to cook them too, it reminds me that we're different. That's important."

I wasn't sure if she was just being trivial or making a point.

I glanced at her, looked down at her chest, her lap. Without thinking, doing it because I wanted to, I simply had to, I lifted a hand and laid it on her thigh. Through the warm silk her skin was firm and smooth. I loved the feel of her through that nightdress. I'm sure it was for tactile reasons she'd bought it, the visual delights were secondary.

She smiled at my touch and continued to feed me.

Then, when we'd finished she took my hand and drew me up and led me out across the hallway and into the library. It was wonderfully warm in here, she'd turned the under floor heating on. The silly, practical, worrisome part of me wondered at the cost of it all.

"Lay down."

It wasn't a request. I lay on the sofa. Her hands undid the belt of my robe and opened it, folding it aside. I sighed and got comfortable. She leaned over and kissed me, gently and deeply and for a long time. I lifted a hand to the back of her neck and pulled her harder against me, she knew I loved this. Her hand came onto my breast and caressed me there, stroking, rubbing, pinching.

Drawing a little sigh from me as I hardened at her touch.

She broke the kiss. Knelt up.

"Wait there. Don't move."

She went out into the hall. I stretched and snuggled down into the squashy cushions. I was warm, comfortable, relaxed, starting to become aroused. Warm both inside and out. What was she up to? I didn't care or mind, if she wanted to do this it was fine.

She returned with a bowl, steam from its hot liquid contents curling up. She carried a towel, things wrapped in the towel. She set her burden down.

She went back out, came back with the wine bottle and glass which she set on the floor to one side.

"We are different in lots of ways," she spoke as she prepared the things she'd brought in, "you like very hot curry, I like mild and sweet. You have your swim club, I belong to the Go Home Club. You love seeing me in pretty lingerie, me – well, I'm not so fussed. It's nice, yes, but having you naked is best."

She picked up a flannel and wet it in the warm water and surprising me, wiped my belly low down at the place she touches me often. She wet me there.

"You've begun to get a taste for beer, I prefer wine. You like movies and TV, all that anime stuff. I prefer music, my rock bands, all loud and sweaty…"

She picked up a can of shave foam and squirted a nugget of it onto her fingers.

"You're completely useless academically. You try hard of course, and I love seeing you try hard, your efforts inspire me. But I'm good at math, chemistry, biology, the sciences. It's naturally easy for me. You – you're good at things like geography and history. You're more arty. Concepts and ideas rather than numbers."

He fingers touched me, spreading the foam over my skin, she dipped them low down and touched my special place. I eased my legs apart a little and tilted my hips back to give her access. I closed my eyes. Nice.

She'd not asked if I wanted this, she went ahead and made the decision for me.

I did want it, I knew what she was going to do. It pleased me that she knew what I wanted and that she'd not asked, I liked being given no choice. I liked being led, being told what will happen. Don't ask me what I want to do, just do it to me. I might prefer a movie but don't give me the choice. If you take me to a rock concert instead I'd enjoy myself more because you gave me no choice. That's the way I am. I like to be told. Be used. Hmm, being used. Having things done to me.

"I'm extrovert, confident, assertive. I want something – I go get it," Maho continued, "You're a girl who sees something you like, you hang back and fret over it. Sometimes for months," she looked into my eyes, pierced me with hers, "Don't you?" she smiled.

"Yes."

"You're still quite shy," she knelt up and came close, planted another kiss on my open mouth, "you may not act so shy these days, at least not round this house, but I know you still are when we're in town or at school, you still hold back, don't you?"

I didn't know if that was a rhetorical question or not.

She lifted the safety razor, turned it in her fingers.

"Don't you?"

"Yes," my reply was little more than a whisper.

"You have hair here. I do not. I know how much you like the way I am. Smooth. You can't keep your hands and mouth off me. You mention it all the time, how nice it looks. You even ask me how it feels. Yet you've not done anything about it, not removed your own hair or asked me to."

She leaned over me and got to work with the razor.

I trusted her.

A few minutes silence.

"Move your leg up. Open more. Hm, good."

"Now this one. Hm, no higher. Bend it back. That's it."

"Back down again."

"There," she studied her handiwork, "all done. You're lucky, underneath you have no natural hair at all, just a little on the sides there so it won't take much effort to keep it smooth."

She studied me.

"Yes, much prettier."

She put the razor down and with the warm wet cloth wiped me.

"Why?" she asked my belly as she cleaned up.

"What?"

"Why do you hold back? Why don't you ask for things, make decisions when we're together? Whenever we go out I decide what we do, even if it's things I like doing."

"I know. You're a natural leader. I just prefer it that way. I want you to be happy."

She shook a little talc over me and smoothed her fingers gently. Around. Over. Under. Everywhere. I sighed again. The feel of her fingers on me was delightful. A new sensation.

"I don't think that's true. I don't think it's my happiness you have in mind." She looked at me carefully, "You've been wanting me to shave you for weeks haven't you? Yet you never asked."

"Yes."

"Don't ask, don't get," she planted a tender kiss on me. Her tongue came briefly out, "Mmm… so much nicer like that…"

I twitched in surprise.

"But I did get…"

"Hm, true. But why. How did you get?"

"You took. You decided."

"I did, because I knew what you wanted and you weren't going to ask."

I began to wonder exactly where this was going.

"I'd rather you just took… took the lead… told…"

"What?"

"Told me what to do…"

Was she aware of how I was, what I liked? What I craved?

"So waiting eleven weeks and then having me do this without asking you was more enjoyable than you asking me to do it ten weeks ago?"

"Yes."

"Which? The waiting… or me doing it?"

"Both. I like both. I like waiting for someone to do something… to me… and I like it… when you make the decisions."

"I see," she topped up the glass of wine, took a mouthful.

She leaned over me again and I, lying back, wondering quite where this evening would end up, and beginning to feel warmer and more aroused, opened my mouth. She pressed her lips to mine and opened her mouth very slightly. The white wine trickled out. It surprised me but I complied with her little game and drank it. It was a good mouthful and I took it all. Maho leaned back.

"Nice?"

"Yes."

She gave. I took.

"How would you describe yourself? In the bedroom? In relationships?"

I thought hard, I think I knew it would be safe to say. I think she had worked it out although how I didn't know.

"Submissive," I said in a small voice.

"Look at me," she said, "look me in the eye and tell me that."

"Maho, I… I like to… I like being made to… submit. Please, kiss me again."

A little colour came into my cheeks, I looked away. She took another drink of wine, this time for herself.

"No. Wait. And look at me." Her voice was a little sharper, "That was my treat."

"Dinner?"

"No, shaving you. And this. This conversation, drawing you out. It's my treat as well."

"How come?"

"Because you like it and I finally realised that." Another sip of wine, another kiss, another transfer of the sparkling cool liquid from her beautiful mouth. Hm, the most wonderful drinking fountain I'd ever imagined. In fact I'd never imagined her doing this. I'd imagined her doing lots of things, some I'd never dare ask for but not this, this simple but so erotic transfer of fluids… it was charged with so much symbolism.

"Why… why is that your gift?"

"I said it wasn't true."

I frowned, she was hard to follow sometimes.

She put the glass down and put her fingers on me where earlier I had been downy and now was smooth. Her fingers trailed down over the hump of my shape. The sensation was lovely, the lack of hair made everything so much more sensitive. I let a small moan trickle out. Her fingers reached their destination, paused.

"Because it isn't is it?" she looked from where her fingers were touching, back up at my face, "It isn't true that you go with my decisions – a music store instead of a manga store or shopping for cosmetics instead of underwear. You don't do it to make me happy do you?"

I couldn't answer. In a way, yes I did, and she knew that. On the surface it was true, I did want to please her. But underneath…

The time for hedging around the truth was over. Now it was time. Be truthful, Sakana.

"No."

"Why do you do it?"

Her fingers moved again and suddenly the slickness they moved in wasn't the residue from the wet cloth, nor even the quasi-lubrication that talcum powder gives. No, the lubrication was coming from another source. I couldn't help it, I just couldn't. I tilted my hips more, opened my legs, put my head back.

"Maho… _onegai_… hm…"

"Keep still." She didn't raise her voice and she hardly changed her tone but it was enough. Two words that were not a request but an order. I obeyed at once. "Now answer my question," her face came close to mine, "that's an order."

Oh, God. How does she know? How does she know that this treatment, more than anything else gets me going? And so fast?

"I do it because I like it. I like to obey, to be given orders… to do what someone else wants… I don't do it to make you happy, but because it makes me happy… Mahorin-sama… _uh_…"(1)

"_Mahorin-sama_ hm? I see," she kept working away at me with two fingers of her left hand, just swirling them about with gentle but insistent pressure, right above where I needed it most, "so that would explain _this_."

With her other hand she lifted out from beside the sofa the old brown shoebox.

_Oh, no!_

_Oh, God!_

_Shit, shit, shit!_

Sakana's Equipment Collection, Asapin called it. He'd bought me a few toys in the summer and I'd been overjoyed to receive them. As I was later that evening to receive him whilst wearing them. In fact he gave me no choice. Once I was wearing them I had no choice… that was the whole point of them.

It lived in the bottom of my wardrobe. She must have found it while cleaning in there.

A wave of shock and surprise and embarrassment washed over me but logic still functioned in my mind. I wasn't afraid. Maho had found my box of _things _while doing the cleaning, but here she was now, in a good mood. In a _very_ good mood. Doing unspeakably lovely things to me, things that soon, very soon would send me to my favourite mountain top.

"Oh, God…!" was my only reaction.

"_Oh God_, indeed young lady. You might well feel guilty…" she paused, removing the lid, "but in fact I don't think you do feel guilty do you?"

I couldn't help it, I just couldn't. My back arched, I pushed my crotch up aching and begging for her touch, please… a little more pressure… just a little.

"I said keep still!" She barked, no pretence now, "If you can't keep still, I'll put them on you..." her face close to mine again, another gentle kiss, her tongue teasing and penetrating, "and then you'll _have_ to keep still."

"Yes, Mahorin-sama, onegai. Make me keep still."

She got them out. There were two sets. One for my wrists, the other for my ankles. Made of black leather and with a soft chamois lining, so they didn't chafe the skin. They closed with buckles. Then the gags, two of them, again leather straps that buckled closed. One was a black rubber ball that stretched my jaw and kept me quiet (apart from moans of course, moans that if I hadn't been wearing it would be screams) and the other which was a metal ring with a soft rubber coating. That one was Asapin's favourite. It meant I couldn't close my mouth and he could put things in and I couldn't stop him. And the other thing. The long thing that took batteries… and impaled on which Asapin would make me moan and sweat and beg for ages… He'd bought them for me one afternoon from a very strange shop he knew in a curious side street somewhere behind Shibuya Crossing.

I wondered if she'd found the two lengths of wooden pole as well, the three foot lengths that stood up on end behind my dresses in the dark corner of the wardrobe and which Asapin would clip between the eyelets of the ankle and wrist straps to hold my legs and arms apart.

_Oh my God, Maho… what must you think of me._

"I knew you were a naughty girl, Kanahrin, I never knew you were _this_ naughty."

"Gomen."

"Oh, don't apologize. No need to be awkward about it. But it's, hm… an interesting discovery."

"It is? You're not cross at me?"

What? She wasn't scared off by this? Hope blossomed, hot and furious…

"No, not cross. I was rather surprised though, a little shocked perhaps. It's not every day one does the housework and finds a box of bondage gear in your girlfriend's wardrobe… I came across this little treasure trove last weekend."

"You've known all week? You never said anything?"

"I was waiting for the right moment, the right mood. You see, I'm not really annoyed with you. But I am… intrigued."

Her fingers, dipping down more, sliding between, inside…

"Uhn…"

"I said keep still!" and she slapped me, slapped my breast.

"Ah!"

It hadn't really hurt, it was too light a slap, but it had surprised me and it also made me burn with a different heat.

_Oh God, oh, my God, not long now… must keep still… must obey…_

"And now," she smiled, "I think tonight we have the right mood. Don't you agree?"

As I rode her fingers, rode higher and higher, gasping and being held still by the power of her words I had to agree.

She suddenly took her fingers away. I whined.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes! Yes it's the right mood!"

"It's the right mood… what?"

"It's the right mood, _Mahorin-sama!_"

"Better. Now keep still. Absolutely still."

"Uhm…"

She resumed her work, gently, slowly, agonizingly… teasing me.

"Uh… Mahorin-sama…"

"Be quiet! And no coming without permission. Do you understand?"

"Uhn."

Losing it, I was losing it. Going… so exquisitely going… and coming… apart.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes…"

"Yes, what?"

Oh, God, how I loved this. She was better at this than Asapin.

"Yes, Mahorin-sama… oh…!"

"Good girl. When you want to come you ask me for permission. Understand?"

Her fingers, oh…

"Yes! Yes, Mahorin-sama!"

More and more now, quicker now, more pressure… and deeper. My whole being was concentrated there in that tiny burning place under her fingertips. I was being shredded alive, my muscles taut, my lungs gasping in small tight sucking breaths, my chest vibrating. Two or three minutes went by, four, five. My body rigid, my hands clutching at the sofa, every muscle stiff and solid. I couldn't bear it, my body needed released, screamed for it.

"Onegai… onegai, Mahorin-sama… I want… to come!"

"No. Don't you dare. Don't you dare come."

"Oh…!"

Her face so close to me, she kissed me. Her fingers, then her other hand on my breast, pinching…

…twisting and pulling at the part of me that was stiff and aching…

"Onegai…! Oh, God!"

"Count. Kana! Listen to me! Listen! Count down from ten! Count! Then you can come."

"Mahorin-sama… oh, onegai…!"

"Do it!"

"Zyuu… …kyuu… …hachi… …uh, sichi… oh, roku, oh, oh… …_go, yon_…"

"Slowly!"

"…uh, oh, san… …ni… …ichi… oh, oouh, onegai!"(2)

"You can come. Come for me, Kana!"

And I convulsed, released from this sweet prison of agony and anticipation and burning want, I arched my back and cried out as her mouth came down onto my chest and bit me, bit hard, painfully, beautifully. I cried out, gasping, whining, the sudden and violent release more than I could bear. My body twisting up off the sofa, writhing, a rush of sheer animal pleasure possessed it and made it something base and crude and hot and wonderful. Gasping… gasping… coming back down… And then her arm was around me, she pulled me up and against her and as I finished, spent and weak and wet and helpless, she kissed me, hugged me.

And as I writhed and gasped and gurgling, came down from my peak I found myself sobbing, the release had been so powerful, so fierce, so wonderful. There were actually tears on my cheeks.

So beautiful, so kind and tender she was. And so much in control. She was everything I needed.

"Maho… my God… oh, Maho, arigato… arigato… arigato, my God, uhmmm…"

She kissed me again, my mouth, my chest and down below where I still burned.

"You like?"

"Yes… oh, God yes, that was _so_ good. Arigato gozaimasu…" a weak grateful whisper.

"Why? Why was it good?"

"Because you were… in control. Not being allowed to come… and then, oh, my having to count… arigato. Amazing. You're so good to me."

"Hm, fun. I'll do that to you again sometime, my naughty little girl."

"I love you so, you're everything I need…"

I held her, happy and weeping in the hot afterglow, my body still shuddering, her fingers still in me.

"Next time, onegai Mahorin-sama… handcuff me."

She held me for a long time, and kissed me.

Then, seemingly randomly,

"Did you enjoy the curry?"

"Uh? Hm, I did."

"There was another point to it. I fed you. You submitted to me. I was just making a point. I was wondering if you'd seen it."

I had to admit I hadn't. Why should I? My thoughts were a million miles from the subject.

"I just thought you were being romantic."

She smiled gently, gave me another slow soft kiss.

"As it happens, I was. You know, if you're bound and at my mercy it doesn't have to be urgent and naughty. It can be romantic too, slow and tender. Loving. I will do that to you soon. One evening when you least expect it."

"Maho, did I ever tell you how much I love you?"

"Hm, I think you might have."

"I want to tell you again. But not here. Can I take you to bed?"

"Yes. You have my permission. Take me."

"Arigato, Mahorin-sama."

Although it was she who took me. She stood and lifted my hand. My robe remained behind on the sofa and she led me, our bare feet silent on the wooden flooring, to our bed. And in that room, with the lights off and moonlight caressing her shape with its cool blue fingers of shadow she stood and I knelt before her and wondered at the feel of her warmth and curving beauty beneath that black silk gown. For a while I simply knelt and hugged her, my arms around her legs and on her bottom, my face pressed happily to her belly.

Then… I went to work to give her only what she deserved. My fingers traced her small ankles, the straight lines of her shins, the mysterious hollows behind her knees, the wonder of her smooth thighs, the soft beauty of her bottom, heavy and warm under the thin material, the flatness of her stomach, and reaching up and supporting the curves of her chest with my praying hands I put my face to that most perfect place. Through the silk I kissed her, until pushing open the side split and wiggling my face under I kissed her again, this time without any barrier between my worshipping lips and her delightful girl smoothness.

She stood for a long time, and although I said nothing and neither did she, I think it was a competition between us, she trying to remain standing and me trying to bring her down. And as she reached that wondrous place and her body shook and vibrated and as she put back her head and cried out and her knees bent and her body sank down, her hands clutching and pulling at my hair, pulling my face tightly against her, I won. I won our contest. But I wasn't finished, even though she was. I pushed the silk up in a tangle across her stomach and went on, nibbling and teasing at the sweet hot aching point of her until a second time she screamed out, screamed for me to stop, to please stop – she begged me to stop and gasping and writhing she pulled away from me, it being too much.

And pulling her silk clad softness to me I held her tight, and told her again, using words.

How much.

How much she meant to me.

That she meant everything, all things.

But who had won? And what was this contest? Was it about simple muscle control when her body wanted to collapse? Was it about me knowing I could draw orgasm after orgasm from her? A simple technical trick of passion and skill? Was it about me serving her, abjecting myself in submission to her delight? Or was it about her using me, a simple tool instead of her own fingers?

Or was this about none of that (or maybe all of it?). Was it about two people, two minds that had discovered a place in a relationship where they were happy to go, to explore seemingly dark places called submission and masochism and assertion and dominance? Was this about that? About two souls happy with a connection that led them to a warm hot, even sordid but ultimately completely satisfying place where both were happy, where both could relax and claim their own special joy and confidence?

A place in a relationship that was no longer ordinary, but charged with the extra-ordinary?

Was this what submission really was? I'd wondered about it all year, on and off. I'd always thought that things like gags and handcuffs needed to be involved – with Asapin they had been, but now here was something in a relationship that hadn't been present between Asapin and I.

Love.

One-sided, yes, I grant you, it was that.

Yet with that emotion – no, that state of being, came a trust so deep, so profound and so comforting and hand-in-hand with trust came other wonderful things like a state of complete relaxation, a strong sense of willingness, a need to be utterly and totally selfless, a desire to make the recipient of my love so happy, so deliriously content that I would be willing to do anything… anything for this person.

And if on that journey we were happy playing certain games, and the essence of the dominant and submissive halves of that relationship spilled over into our ordinary days I would still be happy.

Happier, I think.

Yes, happy, very happy.

So I gathered the breathless damp hot moaning musky bundle into my arms and told her, this time with words how much.

How grateful I was at learning of her reaction to finding that box and its sordid contents.

And how really those contents didn't matter. How it was her will that mattered. Her presence in my life mattered.

How happy I was to obey her every command. Whether she used the contents of that box or not was unimportant. How joy-filled I'd be even knowing she could, if she wanted, take charge even though she might not. That option sharpened all of my senses. Made my whole life keener.

How comfortable I was in this house now she had made it her own.

And, of course,

How so much I loved her.

- - - oOo - - -

_31 August - 2 September 2007_

_(1) –sama – an honourific that __both exalts the person whose name it is attached to and humbles the person saying it. The closest direct translation to English would be "master…" or "mistress…" but the suffix implies more than that. "Tonosama" means 'feudal lord' and the status of the speaker is lowered when it is spoken. The relationship becomes that of a clear subordinate, a servant, even servile._

_(2) Ten counting down to one. So one up through ten is: ichi, ni, san, yon, go, roku, sichi, hachi, kyuu, zyuu. I have actually witnessed sexual mind games like these and they are incredibly powerful, the release at the end might sometimes be so strong the person can black out. So now you can count to ten in Japanese – or, if the situation requires (and one day I hope it does for you) you can count down…_

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Eight, please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	69. I Am Her Instrument

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Sixty Nine – I Am Her Instrument**

_If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

Forget what we're told  
Before we get too old  
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am  
All that I ever was  
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see  


_- Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
She'd bought that ridiculously expensive nightgown mostly for me in the first place, because she knew I'd love the feel of the black silk under my hands, I love feeling her skin, warm and firm, through the thin fabric; the way it slides across her where she's smooth; her legs, her stomach, and lower down, so smooth lower down where I love her most; and even now, when I hardly need encouragement to touch her, it's become one of her favourite things to wear.

And she's wearing it now, and it's evening and we are tired. The lights are low and the day is over and night is coming. We rest in this place, our cocoon, our nest, _our home_ and the air in here is warm and fragrant from the scented candles she has bought as part of our Christmas decorations and placed about the rooms and along by the walls in the hallway where their flames flicker and dance in the teasing draughts. Like her presence these candles are drops of her scattered about, now one here, now one there I will come across them burning in a corner, on a shelf, beside a bookcase, the vanilla scent of their essence making this house sweet and warm, as she does.

She is in her bath and tonight she has asked to be alone, I do not know why and I do not ask. She has her private moments and it is not my business to intrude on them. That she likes to be alone does not worry me for she will finish her bath and come in here and sit silently and read a book, or write her journal or put on her headphones. And I will sit in silence and watch her. She does not mind me watching, at least she never says she does. But she is busy with the clutter of her life and I am busy waiting. That is what I wish to do, that is what my love demands I do.

Wait.

I am the physicality of waiting. If the concept of waiting were to become a person, it would be I.

I wait, therefore I am.

I wait.

Because I wish to. It pleases me. It satisfies me. It is my greatest need fulfilled, to wait for her.

What will she do? Ask me to make tea? I will make it, the finest that I can, fresh and piping hot and sharp and infused with cinnamon the way she prefers it.

Or she may ask me to turn the lights up, or turn them down. Or turn them off. Or close the shutters, or open them, or turn up the heating. Or a hundred other trivial things that are to her a mere quiet gentle request and are to me my whole life.

Without her here to tell me what she needs I would die.

I would cease to have purpose, I would cease to have a reason, I would cease.

I would die.

For there would be nothing for me, nothing of worth anyway which amounts to the same thing.

It has come to this, a one sided life, a one sided love in which I give and give and wait and wait and she lives in my house, in my rooms, in my bed.

God… in my bed she lives so brightly, burning like stars, burning me, I burn with her and for her in my bed. She touches me and I burn. She looks at me and I burst into flame. She passes near me and I become heat. I am out of control. A dry forest awaiting her spark to make of me a raging inferno.

That is what I have become.

A mere conflagration not yet ablaze.

Tonight I sit quietly, my knees together, my hands in my lap, my gaze on her and quite naked, because she has asked me to be naked. And when she asks I comply. It is the reason I am here, for her to ask. She asks, I give. She takes, I give. She does nothing, I wait.

And in waiting I give. Even then, giving consumes me.

She might ask me to make tea or adjust the lighting or the heating or her cushion, or she might simply ask me to walk in front of her and stand there. And those things are what I love the most. Because it is the sight and presence of me, of my nakedness, that gives her pleasure. And if I can give her pleasure then I am complete.

And when she has finished her journal she yawns and checks her watch and puts down her pen. She drains her teacup and thanks me for her drink. I live a thousand years of pleasure because she has thanked me. She has noticed me.

Tonight she says she is tired and would like to sleep early, so she stands and tidies away her things. She comes in front of me and offers me her hand. Without speaking I take it. I have been waiting to take it. We have done this many times, I know what she wants.

"I'm tired. I want to go to bed early."

It is our code. I know what she means.

By her hand she leads me to her bedroom. It used to be my bedroom and then it became our bedroom. Now it is hers and I am merely an orbiting planet of her sun, her burning star. She has come into my life and made it hers, has come into my home and made it hers, has come into my bedroom and made it hers. I have given it to her, given it gladly, for it is the least thing she deserves. This bed, this room, this house, this life.

I have given, she has taken. I am happy.

And she tells me what she wants. She stands before me in that sheath of black silk the mere sight of which can kindle the consuming flames, the mere smell of which, so infused with her own special earthy scent and her perfume is enough to make my heart run so erratically that I feel my own chest bumping. I see it bumping, I see the aching peaks of me jittering with the presence of her, my very need for her makes me unstable, the smooth warm silk inside of which is something I so much desire that I feel faint to even think about it.

And the touch of her, the feel of her under that black sensuous mysterious covering. It represents her, does that silken sheath. If there were any one piece of clothing in the world that were to personify Izawa Maho it would be that black silk nightdress, bought weeks and weeks ago on the day we first went shopping together and which has now come to represent that person who moves me beyond words.

She tells me what to do.

"Touch me. Here," and she indicates a place.

"Now here. Yes. And now here. And here. Yes… And yes…"

She and I are like instrument and virtuoso. I touch her and make sounds come out, beautiful melodies and harmonies, soaring birds of sound.

Yet who is the instrument and who the virtuoso?

Is it I who plays her?

Her body, like a violin curved and mellow and so finely carved and creating sounds so wonderful I can hardly bear to hear them without falling to the ground.

Or is it she? Does she play me. Am I the instrument and does she play me with her voice? Commanding me to do now this and now that. For on some days or evenings, or even in the middle of the night when she wakes me and demands pleasure of me she might tell me to touch her in certain ways – or other nights she might tell me to touch myself and she will watch for long minutes while it is my violin body that vibrates and sings against my own fingers and finally perhaps after half an hour deep in the middle of the silent night, the blue winter night, it is I who writhes and makes such abandoned urgent sounds. And she, having watched me twitch and gasp and cry out because the pleasure is so great, she might simply kiss me and thank me and return to sleep leaving me awash with a still burning desire, a forest fire that while it has burned fiercely through the whole of me and consumed me, reduced me to mere ash, is still glowing and smoldering and hot.

She sleeps and I remain, a hopeless yet eager prisoner of her decision, her captivating commands. It is I who has enjoyed pleasure while she has not and even though she must burn with a need to be touched, it is I, who so much wants to touch her who is left on the knife edge of my wanting.

She does this to me.

These spectacular, burning, roaring mind games that both mess with me and leave me so happy I would not want it any other way.

And, as always, I wait.

I am the instrument. She plays me sometimes with my own fingers, sometimes she plays me with bindings to my wrists or ankles or jaw holding me secure in her wicked and merciless heart. Her delicious heart, her mind that invents such wonderful games. She might use me, the instrument, to play herself. She might use merely her mind to play me, make me do this, do that. Even cooking dinner, pouring wine, writing up my homework.

I am become an extension of her.

It is what I want to be.

- - - oOo - - -

And some days…

Some days I wonder…

Is this right? Is this normal? Am I normal?

To love like this? To love a relationship in which one person exists merely to serve another?

To be so devoted that you'd give everything, making yourself like nothing, like a servant, a very slave in order that the one you love might just enjoy herself more, that her days would be merely less onerous.

I am become a convenience, a light switch, a bath tap, a warm blanket, a glass of water, a door lock.

Is this what I have become?

I sit some days at my school desk, writing and ask myself these questions.

But I do not answer them.

Do I fear the answers? The weakness of me is that I do not want to answer even that.

I am on a knife edge, a delicate balancing thing. At one moment awash with the most wonderful love I can imagine. At another full of fear, fear of the thing I have become.

By giving that love I am emptying myself until I am no longer a person.

And I am afraid.

- - - oOo - - -

And this is how she treats me…

"Come over here," it's never a request, not when those words come from Izawa Maho, not when she wears _that_ expression and never in that tone. And I do. I obey. I go to her and following her instructions I strip. I kneel before her, thighs upright, knees a little apart, my wrists crossed over and resting on my bottom. I await whatever she wishes to do to me. I do not mind waiting, even though it might be half an hour while she finishes her homework, or a couple of chapters of her book, or even touching herself. She will do that sometimes. Make me kneel and watch while she disrobes and her own fingers caress her delicious chest (the shape of which fills my dreams), and then moaning, and her nipples stiffened and swollen, her hand descends between her thighs. And I will kneel and quietly watch and listen to the sounds of pleasure her own fingers drag from deep within her. And watching and listening I go almost insane with heat and longing, my body on fire.

And this is how I feel…

But I don't mind, because when she is finished doing whatever she is doing, she will turn her attention, and her fingers (that carry her delightful scent), and her mouth, on me. And when she does that, in that way, I know that waiting half an hour, even an hour, even two if she were to demand it, would be like my eyes blinking, it would be like my heart beating once, it would be like drawing in a single breath. It would mean nothing to me. When she finally touches me and my spirit burns, nothing else means anything.

- - - oOo - - -

And this is my life…

I am your winter coat, that buttons up to the throat and I have a big upturned collar so you won't catch cold. Wrap me around you, like a scarf and I will keep the snow from your neck.

I am your soft armchair that is moulded through years of contact with your body. Exactly your shape and familiar with your smell, I want you to curl up on me and with a coffee contemplate your day.

I am your CD player that plays your favourite songs to you as you're lying there, drifting off to sleep.

I am your kitchen, packed full of useful things and good food. You can open a fridge and drink the milk of me or grab a slice of toast of me, or just take a spoon from the always available cutlery drawer of me. I just want to be there for you to use, for you, like a kitchen you've lived in for years, comfortable, homely, I want you to be familiar with me and just help yourself to me whenever you want.

I want you, when you are thirsty or hungry to come to me and I will always be there. Feeding you is my purpose. Refreshing you is my life. I exist for you.

Make me your bed, make me your chair. Make of me your clothing, hug and hold me close, make of me a comfortable old pair of shoes. Make of me your pillow, come, rest on me. Make of me your walls and your roof, let me keep the weather off you. Make of me the locks on your doors, let my presence keep you secure and safe. Feel loved by me.

- - - oOo - - -

And this is how we live…

It began with kissing, but that was two hours ago; since then we have climbed mountains in our passion; we are polar explorers; we have landed on the moon; we have been to the deepest trenches of the ocean and seen creatures made of lights, been places where there is no sound, where there is merely black pressure and movement; we have run in fragrant valleys of bright flowers; we have… yes, we have been there… and now, finished, returned from our travels we just lie here, drifting in and out of sleep, lips still brushing, breaths mixing gently together, murmuring like our resting spirits, entwined legs, entwined hearts. With a finger I dab away a bead of perspiration from the hollow of her neck. I realise that despite several months I have never once tasted her sweat, so I decide to; I dip my head and lick and taste her there; and I am cross: only now do I discover what wonders I have been missing. 

- - - oOo - - -

And again…

There are very few things in the world that can compare to waking up on a Sunday morning knowing there is no school and no swimming and while she's still asleep, feeling her arm draped over my waist, her breath stirring my hair, her skin warm and soft and her gentle woman's shape without the hindrance of silly things like _clothing_, pressing against mine.

It's been weeks since I allowed myself a day like this, a day off to just _relax_, so when Maho wakes up this winter bright Sunday morning to find me sorting through research notes for my school English project I've been working on, and she greets me with a very long and very loving good-morning kiss in two different places, I know it'll be another day I'll just have to put aside this project and go do something more worthwhile with her.

Like sitting and staring at her and doing nothing else while she goes about her day around me.

Having seemingly forgotten to put on clothes.

- - - oOo - - -

_7 - 8 September 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Sixty Nine, please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	70. Winter And Spring

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy – Winter and Spring**

_Baby, I wanna be your girl,  
Baby all I need is you.  
Even if I'm like this  
Right by your side._

Even if I'm loving you like this  
Without time on my side,  
I can't become your girlfriend.  
So many times I thought  
That I was okay with  
Sharing you with someone else.

So many times I've cried  
Thinking that it wasn't okay.  
Even if you have to lie to please me, do so.  
You are the only one for me.  
Please say that I'm the only one you love.

- Closing theme, "Elfen Lied".

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
We spent that Christmas and New Year at Maho's mom and dad's house. She herself called it that. No longer was it "come round my house" but "we've been invited to mom and dad's house". I didn't notice it at the time but later that night, lying in bed it struck me. She didn't consider this to be home anymore. My house was her home. You cannot know what feelings that caused in me, how happy I was, how peacefully I slept that night.

Her parents knew we shared a house alone, Maho had told her that much, and she knew I had a sister who visited infrequently and who lived far away, so in a way it was natural that at that time of year, when families traditionally gather, Maho had been invited back. And I was pleased that her mom had thought of me.

I am glad I was invited too. I don't know what I would have done on my own for a week in my empty house. Gone mad, probably.

We went around on Christmas Eve morning and didn't return home until the day after New Year's Day, almost all of the school end of year break. The house was busy, Maho's maternal grandmother was there, an incredibly thin and incredibly ancient lady who smoked continuously, her hands yellow with nicotine. She seemed to me to be like a witch, she hardly spoke at all, but just complained if anyone opened a window so we could gasp in a few breaths of fresh air.

Maho's uncle and aunt came too, her father's brother and his wife. They had two grown up children both of whom had gone to university in America. Her uncle was nice, a big round smiling man who joked a lot and drank rather too much but he was funny and whenever the ancient witch was out of earshot he'd make cutting remarks about her. Maho's aunt was quieter, again quite a round lady and rather plain but enjoying life to the fullest. I liked them both, ordinary unpretentious people.

On Christmas Day and for the New Years visit to the temple Maho's brother and sister came too. Neither was married but her sister brought around a very handsome man, tall and well built who looked like a banker, very well dressed. He was called Yuichi and clearly Maho's sister was head over heels about him.

So we were short of sleeping space and it was a given that I would sleep in Maho's room. Her mom provided a futon for me but that still meant granny had no bed.

"She can have mine," Maho had said casually.

"You don't want her in with you, do you?" her mom looked shocked.

"No, mom, don't talk crazy stuff like that! Of course not! She'll stink the room out! But you can move my bed into another room and Sakana and I will have futons. Granny can't sleep on a futon anymore anyway, it would kill her knees."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Of course. It'll be more fun for us girls anyway. With me in a bed and Sakana on the floor that'd be strange."

"Alright then I'll get uncle Yoshio to move it to the small spare room."

I said nothing, I merely stared at my feet. But inside my heart bounded.

"You're fine with that are you, Sakana?"

"Yes, Izawa-san, arigato."

"Don't thank me, it's Maho's idea."

I looked at her and continued to play the game.

"Arigato, Maho-chan."

The one I loved gave me a very funny look.

"No worries. We can sneak out and steal all the Christmas snacks and have a midnight feast."

"You girls! You're sixteen! You're too old for midnight feasts now!"

I had to disagree… midnight feasts were one of my favourite things.

- - - oOo - - -

At _Shogatsu_ or New Year we had the traditional _Susaharai_, the year-end house cleaning or "Soot Sweeping." Everybody would help out although principally it was the women of the household. Maho's father, brother and uncle and her sister's boyfriend went out for the day (I think they just found a bar and drank, they were certainly in a good mood when they got back) while we five women went right through the house, not just dusting and hoovering but wiping down all the woodwork and washing the paintwork but taking everything out of cupboards and washing inside them too. It was meant to clean out the old year and all the dirt and bad spirits that hung around with it but I idly wondered if we were in fact merely wiping away Maho's granny's last New Year's coating of nicotine and the whole process of inviting The Witch and the _Susaharai_ were directly linked. Like some perfectly balanced Yin-Yang thing. The western Christmas decorations came down and Japanese decorations went up in their place.

Maho and I put out the _kudomatsu_ Shoatsu decoration on the front porch and the _shimenawa_ rice-straw rope wards above the door, they keep away evil spirits until New Year when the good, renewed spirits of the new day could come in and find a house spiritually clean.

On New Year's eve everyone stood around drinking a little sweet sake and eating _toshikoshi_ or New Year soba noodles. Later, about eleven o'clock, we all put on our coats and walked in the crisp night to the temple that is up the hill behind Maho's parent's house about a mile away. Other families were going too and people would call out greetings to each other, there was a happy, hopeful party atmosphere that night. Maho and I walked arm in arm, a happy gesture between friends, on this occasion it meant nothing more. Hand in hand might have looked odd but in a way girls are luckier than boys – we can share such close touches and gestures and no-one is suspicious. Boys can't do that together without it looking strange. I loved every minute of that day and that night.

We knelt in the Shinto temple and listened to the one hundred and eight tolls of the temple bell at midnight, which itself took nearly an hour.

And then back to the house, for more drinks and sweetmeats and _soba_ and talking long into the small hours, three or four o'clock.

Very late, when everyone was going to bed and tidying things away, Maho took my arm and led me outside to the back garden. The night was bitter cold and utterly silent, there was no traffic this late, no trains, no animals stirring, no birds, no factories working. There was no cloud either and the sky was black and carpeted with bright stars. It was incredibly cold. I shivered and pressed up against her.

We stared up at the stars.

"A new year, Kanahrin," she sounded tired, her smooth deep voice slow and gentle.

"Yes."

"I wonder what it will bring?"

"I wonder."

I squeezed her arm tight, leaned my head on her shoulder.

"Come," she said, "Bed."

It was an excellent idea.

- - - oOo - - -

We lay together in the darkness, the cold night warmed by our softness pressed one to the other. For the sake of decency we both wore sensible night shirts but hands could and did explore under them. Her arm was tight around me, her hand cupping my bottom, holding me close. I could feel she wasn't asleep.

"What are you thinking?" she suddenly asked me, her breaths brushing my neck.

"You said this wasn't your house any more."

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"Hm. It does. What does it mean?"

"It means your house is my home now."

"And what… what does that mean?"

She rolled onto her back and lay staring at the ceiling. She said nothing. I rolled onto her, held her, lay my head where I love to lay it, sliding my hand under her shirt I cupped her where I love to hold her. Her fingers came up and into my hair and played with it, like she does.

"What does it mean, onee-chan?" I repeated my question.

"I don't know, Kanahrin. I don't know."

"Are we changing? Are you…?"

"Kanahrin… I don't know. I don't know anything any more. Onegai… go to sleep."

- - - oOo - - -

_What does it mean?_

_I don't know._

_Are you…?_

_I don't know. I don't know anything any more._

Hope. Hope burned there, in my heart that night. And in my heart for many days to come. All that year, that spring and summer and autumn it burned. The flame never went out.

- - - oOo - - -

Winter ended and spring hinted it's arrival. We have a two-week break at the end of the school year, from late March to early April. In January we'd had another _kadai_ test and at the beginning of March an end of year test, the _gakunen-matsu_. I think by then though, I'd reached my academic peak. I'd ranked at 156 in the September _kadai _and in January placed at 144. By March I was at 139 and didn't feel like I could do more, my skull would burst and the grey mush that used to be my brain would run out, merely so much useless slurry. Maho was up there in the low 20s as usual and I wondered sometimes at that. There were nights when we'd be doing homework and she'd ask me about an essay or some geographical feature or a chemistry experiment and it was plain that she really didn't know. But in examinations she excelled. I knew of this skill, of simply being able to retain reams of data and spew it back out, it was an acquired technique and Maho excelled at it. My skull had too many holes in. I just leaked knowledge.

On the morning after we broke up, Maho got up from breakfast, washed up and then went to the bedroom. She returned a few minutes later wearing her crummy old jeans and a tired baggy sweatshirt, her hair tied back in a scarf.

"Come on then, let's do it."

"Do what?"

(_It_ usually referred to something that happened when she was wearing much prettier clothes, or none at all).

"This garden of yours. I'm sick of the sight of it. Let's do it before everything starts growing again."

And we did. I put on my oldest tracksuit, and got out gardening gloves and secateurs and shears and the big fork and spade and bow saw and wheel barrow from the shed and we set to work.

The garden was a total mess, untouched for nine years, it had gone wild. The big bushes had got all woody and ugly, the bamboo had gone berserk and taken over almost a third of what was once the lawn and of mom's gravel and rock garden and pond there was no sign. It took us three days solid to clear it. We basically went through the whole thing, only taking a few cuttings of the rarer plants to save and re-pot although we left the three fine Japanese maples. At the end of that first day I phoned sis and arranged to have forwarded a large sum out of my trust fund. Maho and I sat at the kotatsu and discussed it, like two kids imagining a lottery win.

"No, you can't add in the cost of a weekend stay at a hot springs hotel!" I squawked, crossing it off the list.

"Then we'll get rid of _that!_" and she struck through my proposed Janet Reger wardrobe, "and _that!_" bang went my two week winter break in Okinawa.

"Hm and what's this?" I looked at a business class flight to New York, "that's not funny, Mahorin."

"Well, you'll just have to be my substitute then. What I was planning to get in New York I'll just have to get here."

"I can do that," I said, serious now.

"Good. Show me. Show me you've not lost your touch."

So I did.

And I hadn't.

Later…

"Alright," she sighed, "forget the New York trip, you'll do…"

"Will I?"

She turned to me and smiled, kissed the sweat off my upper lip, from the hollow of my neck, and lower, from my breast, "of course."

- - - oOo - - -

We hired a waste disposal skip for a few days and dumped literally tons of rubbish in it, old bushes and trees, lots of bamboo, tree stumps, rubble. Eventually on the third day I found mom's traditional garden in the far right hand corner. I came across a layer of round stones, I assumed once white and raked into perfect Zen-like peaceful lines, now overlayered with mud and weeds and green with mosses. The remains of her bamboo water feature, rotted and collapsed and her pond, now a mere shallow ditch of slime, frogs and newts.

I knelt in the mud and remembered.

My heart became heavy.

A hand came onto my shoulder.

"I'll measure it up. I'll relay it for you." The hand squeezed.

"Not for me, onee-chan, I want to relay it for her."

"For her then."

By the collapsed water feature was a stone Buddha hidden in weeds. He sat about two feet high and was very heavy, solid granite. I didn't remember him at all but I wanted him to be a centrepiece of the new garden.

On the third afternoon Maho and I measured up and later that evening we sat at the kitchen table and in her careful sharp clear had she drew up a plan, inking it in as we fixed our ideas. An area of patio behind the house where we could sit at a table and chairs and eat outside in warm weather, a bed of bright flowers, mostly annuals below that where their scent would reach us. A small lawn beyond with bamboo stands shielding the ugly concrete fencing down one side of the property. On the other side the traditional garden with white gravel, large isolated rocks surrounded by grasses and ferns and at the rear mom's Buddha on a small rise, a pond in front of him with a little arched stone bridge over it (I'd seen precast concrete ones that were even pre-weathered for you and looked good for a reasonable price). But the nicest part was that the path over the bridge and pond led to a corner at the bottom which we planned to grass over, shield from surrounding houses with tall bamboo and then cover the fence on that side with a climbing bougainvillea, for its happy pink flowers and sweet scent. Maho had worked out that once the bamboo screen reached a certain height (we could buy tall ones anyway) that corner would be quite private and we could sunbathe there.

Of course I was thinking back to Asapin's garden, and I had naughty plans for that space, _very_ naughty ones.

On the fourth day we went to the garden supplies centre in Kawasaki and went a bit mad, spending almost the entire budget in three hours. We arranged a truck to deliver it all in two days' time.

And that, apart from the planting and the maintenance (which Maho loved to do) is the story of how my garden was reborn. Maho was kind to me that year, very kind, she did wonders for my heart. But this gesture, all this work and the upkeep of this garden was her real gift, if I count gifts as physical things. Yes it was my money and yes I worked hard too but she was the driving force, many of the ideas were hers and once it was finished it was she who would happily potter about in it for hours clipping plants, cutting the grass and controlling the weeds.

And we saved my monthly gardener's bill which amounted to a reasonable sum and over those two years almost entirely offset the amount I'd taken out of the fund.

And Maho easily offset the rest, many, many times over.

As spring came and it began to get warm again and I'd sit outside sipping tea and doing my homework I would delight in watching her; now close by and bending down to pull up something growing in an unwanted place; now distant, just her orange headscarf and her rainbow of hair catching the afternoon sun as she moved behind the bamboo stands or fished surface weed off the pond with a child's fishing net on a cane.

I never, ever tired of watching Maho, no matter where she was or what she did. At school (we were second years now) sat quietly at her desk, chin in palm; on the running track at the sports fest, her long legs sending her far ahead of me; laughing in clothing stores, trying on silly hats; in our bed, her eyes closed, arm thrown up and her face a picture of utter peace; or as here in the garden, relaxed and happy, unwinding and gentle and moving like a dream down by the bougainvillea.

It was no good. Surely there had to be a law against it, this couldn't be allowed to happen. I put down my teacup and let my bare feet carry me down the path, over the concrete bridge. I nodded my greeting to Buddha, asking him to please avert his gaze today and found her trimming carefully away at the bamboo screen. I stood close to her and watched.

She knew I was there. It's the same with me, when she's nearby, even though invisible I feel her presence. She turned, smiled.

"Hi."

"Hello. How is the bamboo doing?"

"Alright, getting there."

"Tall enough yet?"

"What for?"

"This," was my one word reply as I loosed the belt of my robe let it slide off my shoulders and naked, went to her.

"I see," was her breathless answer when the kiss ended, "I'm not sure. Let's find out."

And eagerly I did. My hands went to the buttons of her shirt, the zip of her skirt, the catch of her bra, the waistband of her panties and sinking down onto the cool fresh spring grass we discovered that the bamboo screen was indeed now tall enough.

The only issue was a lack of soundproofing, but in a way that was nice too, having to bite back the cries her nipping teeth and flickering tongue would draw from me.

It was even nicer when I returned the favour and found that her self control was weaker, that maybe she couldn't bite her knuckles hard enough to stifle all the sound or that perhaps the pleasure was so great she just didn't care.

Yes, in that situation, in that garden, with that girl, there had to be a law against not doing those things to her.

Afterwards, damp from the still young grass, the still cool season that dried her sweat too slowly,

"I've never done it out of doors before."

"What did you think? Was it different?"

"Yes. I like the feel of the sun on me and the air and the grass. It's really nice."

"Good. Summer's coming," I smiled mischievously, "Lots of opportunities to make sure the bamboo is still okay."

"Kanahrin, you're so naughty!"

"Hm," You make me do it, "You'll have to spank your naughty girl…" I nuzzled her hopefully trying to tease a reaction from her.

"Alright. But not out here. I am not going to let the neighbours hear _that_."

"Use the gag."

"Kanarin! Will you stop it?!"

"Ah… summer. I'm so looking forward to it. Are you?"

"I am. _And_… you're coming on holiday with us."

"I am? You're going away with your family?"

"Yes. To Hawaii. I want you to come."

"Hawaii?"

"Hm, two weeks. Dad has a friend in the US export business, he's been working to get dad's sweets an opening in the States via a chain of stores in California. The company that owns the chain agreed recently. The CEO has a villa in Hawaii. He's agreed to let dad have it for two weeks in August. Mum, dad, Yuuko and Yuichi, you and me. It has a pool and everything."

"Really? _Whoa!_ That's great. Arigato!" I glomped her, hugging tight.

"I knew you'd be pleased."

"Has it got a big garden? Is it private?"

"Now, enough of that. Stop it." She wagged a finger at me. I melted at her stern voice, her gesture, "I have no idea actually but I would imagine that wearing nothing outdoors might not go down too well with mom and dad around."

"We'll wait until they go out for the day then," I teased mercilessly, "And your sister and Yuichi with them. Then… hmm… skinny dipping in the pool… ah, sunbathing naked… hmmm…"

"You're so _wrong_, Kanahrin. You're wrong in the head," she smiled at me.

"I am not!" I pretended to be offended, "I am perfectly normal! And anyway, its you that makes me do it."

"Now that," she looked at me sternly, "I know is a lie. Urges like you have? No way are you normal. And do you know what I do with naughty girls who lie to me?"

I did. But I said it anyway, meekly, quietly, eyes downcast, "They get spanked?"

Her eyes glittered, hard and hot. She scooped up her clothes to cover herself and put my robe around me and led me by the hand to the library. In the library was the big squishy sofa. The place she liked to sit and get comfortable. And put me over her lap…

- - - oOo - - -

_11 - 22 September 2007_

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy, please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	71. Paradise Found

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy One – Paradise Found**

_Your so tender, tender eyes, release that golden view.  
It's simple, simple friendship, flowers are passed to you,  
You're picture, picture perfect, pathways are laid for you._

_Go and send yourself away, go and dream,  
Go and dream, go and send yourself away._

_Poor as paupers, proud as kings,  
All we do is aim for better things._

- Seth Lakeman, Send Yourself Away  
_  
__- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
Looking back now on the last two years I almost cannot believe it all happened. School really was there all the time, the endless cycle of lessons, homework and tests but whereas before these had loomed large in my experiences, during those two years they seemed to take on an almost minor supporting role in my life.

Of course everything centred on Maho and revolved around her, my sun, the centre of my solar system. If I had homework to do I measured it in terms of whether she sat with me while I worked or whether she wanted to go out to a live and I stayed in and did it alone. It was different if I wrote it out and she copied my notes later or if she was the one to do the work and I borrowed her written expertise. Or again, if we shared it. That was the best time, easily. When we knelt at my kotatsu, green tea in the rough ceramic handle-less cups and worked together, homework became not a learning process or a chore, but a delight.

Life itself became that. A delight in every way. Even the mundane became extraordinary. 

- - - oOo - - -

That summer, ah, my heart burns with the memory. We went to Hawaii and there were days when Maho's father went out on business and her tiny fussy mother was coaxed out by her sister and her boyfriend leaving us alone in the house.

Have you ever been out of doors naked? Ever swum in your skin? Please try it, it's delightful, quite wonderful. The feel of the sun and wind on your body. The two of us sunbathing by the pool, playing in the warm water or swimming hard and feeling its caress as I pounded through it. Best of all running around the small but private garden, playing hide-and-go-seek or tag. There were lemon trees, date palms and all manner of tropical shrubs and grassy paths between. Hide-and-go-seek was best, especially when I found her and Maho would run away shrieking and giggling and enchantingly nude. She would run around laughing for a while, teasing me, giving me _those_ sorts of looks back over her shoulder. I would catch her, or perhaps she would let me do that and pushing her to the warm grass I would pin her down and stop, the two of us breathing heavily, her chest heaving, my spirit laughing. Then I would make her pay her forfeit.

Hmm, we paid each other so many forfeits those glorious hot sunny days.

Beads of sweat from our bodies counted those days. And those nights. We learned how our bodies worked.

There was a hot tub near one corner of the pool and late in the night when the others were in bed we would sit in the hot bubbling water and watch the steam rising against the stars and sip some of her fathers sweet _sake_. We would talk of inconsequential things and laugh and cuddle and we would kiss, and kiss and kiss, for hours, right into the small hours.

There were times that summer and autumn and the following winter when she made me so happy I forgot our relationship had an expiry date, days and weeks would go by and my world was perfect.

Maho, arigato. 

- - - oOo - - -

In that magical holiday garden. It was our Garden of Eden, our paradise:

I think I could happily die this way, her legs tangled with mine, arms around my neck, moving slowly and seductively or quickly and frantically against me, her face flushed and eyes glittering with need; and it just might happen someday, because when she cries out my name like that, throws back her head and makes her beautiful O face, I feel like I've temporarily forgotten how to breathe.

- - - oOo - - -

_15 November 2007 and 26 February 2008 (long break!)_

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy One, please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	72. All These Months I've Wanted To Do That

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy Two – All These Months I Have Wanted To Do That **

Our second year at Hokuei flew by, the usual things happened, the sports fest, summer break, endless mindless tests, the culture fest. We performed 'Steel Snow' again and this time the house was packed with people standing. We won the prize as most successful event. Yukino got her Tokyo U student portfolio, bless her. What was nice to see was a proper official drama club was again established in the school and they put on a play as well _and_ a series of humorous sketches. It was good to see the classical arts making headway against the food stalls and game alleys that usually plagued school culture fest events. 

And this time the kiss scene at the end between Neo and Sigh was almost X-rated. The stage hands and other performers actually applauded us as we came off at the end.

I blushed. I have no idea why.

Yukino's sister Tsukino could have attended Hokuei as a freshman this year but didn't. It wasn't that she wasn't academically capable, it was that she wanted to play tennis professionally and a private school had talent-spotted her and offered her a sports scholarship. Yukino was relieved I think, she loves her younger sisters very much but she isn't the mothering kind and preferred not to have Tsukino hanging around her, 'cramping her style' she said, as younger sisters can sometimes do.

The year was a delightful blur, as I've told you and soon winter had come and gone, we Christmassed- and New Yeared again at Maho's parents and the flowering sakura announced spring again and our third year, our senior year.

By now Tsubaki and Tonami were an established couple. Tsubaki had no intention of attending university. She had been in discussion with a old professor friend of her family who knew an archeologist who was working in Peru. Tsubaki planned to fly out there direct after her last year and work on an Inca dig. Tonami was going too. Theirs was a strange relationship, often pitted and twisted by arguments and whole weeks when they were not speaking to each other but they must each have seen something in the other and the stories Tsubaki would eagerly tell of their passion made it plain she was hooked. Such a difference from when she was a freshman and would complain about Arima and Yukino or loudly deny any interest in boys. We would delight in ribbing her about her 'husband' and take cover in Okinawa when she exploded and rampaged Godzilla-like around the classrooms.

She was a late developer but had nothing on Yukino when it came to raw destructive force. And her stories proved she was no lesbian either, despite my earlier doubts. Honestly, the air was blue some lunch breaks. Us girls would look at Tonami in a new light after classes. He was a big, muscular guy full of energy and Tsubaki made it no secret that he was big elsewhere and his power and stamina wasn't just confined to the basketball court.

Tsubasa and Kazuma hooked up too, I think I told you before (ah, so much has happened!) although the gestation of that relationship was long and stormy and it wasn't until the end of our third year that he finally realized what she meant to him. They made a great couple, not at all the two you'd expect to get together but she was very happy. She deserved it, so many years of loneliness and rejection.

The ever gorgeous Rika slowly fell for Aya's brother, but she was so shy and sweet natured that it took years and in the end, with some serious and not very subtle prompting from his sister, it was Kyo who made the move. Rika, when she wasn't with Aya, was such a quiet girl and we never heard many details about Kyo although we met him several times when our gang went into town and Rika's smile became even more winning and beautiful after she began going out with him.

'Our gang'. Hm, I find that phrase so comforting. It's so nice to be accepted as a part of a group. So many years I was a loner, but now I can't comprehend not having friends.

Aya remained obstinately single and obstinately committed to her laptop. Bless her, she's a genius, for 'Steel Snow' and the things that day set in motion I'm so grateful. I wonder what sort of guy she will eventually fall for.

Yukino's and Arima's relationship continued to deepen. She and I were very close and talked often. She would talk for hours about his difficulties with his family, they seemed to go so deep and be the product of so many twisted years over more than one generation and were so complex she often despaired but when they were together their love always shone through and I told her one day that it would win, no matter what he struggled with I implored her to remain strong and committed to him. Perhaps it will work out after all?

And Asapin was just Asapin, unique, dangerously perverted, incomparable, funny, gorgeous. And like Aya, eternally single. I knew his lifestyle now and knew he was still waiting for _her_. The girl with whom he would write the story of his life. In the meantime though while he waited, he continued to browse the library shelves, dipping into a chapter here and there, as he liked to do. The rascal. _Asapin, I love you._

- - - oOo - - -

Which brings me back to Maho and I, and I will just tell you a couple of things about us. We were established now in Hokuei and it was well known that we were lovers. The premier lesbian couple of the school. We took plenty of flak and bullying of course, always other girls who thought we had no right to let the side down in this way. I know they were afraid, it's always the case; people who are insecure in their own sexuality will attack those who demonstrate an acceptance of what they fear in themselves.

It's the old story, part of growing up. Been there, done that, went on the world tour. Maho was wonderful though, she fought back with words and fists when necessary or gave our tormentors the disdainful superior silences they deserved.

"Let them stew," she would say to me, and she'd take my hand and squeeze it.

"They don't know what they're missing," I'd smile at her and I'd squeeze back.

"Remind me again later", she would tease, _that_ look in her eyes.

Some of the other gay or curious or unsure girls came to us though and it was a tremendous and deeply humbling privilege to meet these tormented unhappy people and sit down with them and talk, talk, talk - tell them what I had learned, what I had felt and gone through and suffered and how they could face the world too. They were good times, I finally felt I had real worth and could give back to these girls what the world had torn violently from me.

Maho would always keep quiet during these talks. She would sit beautiful and silent and aloof and let me counsel the lonely, angry, frustrated and sometimes near-suicidal girls who wept and ranted in my arms. I never told them and they never found out what Maho was, that she wasn't like me. Maho wasn't a lesbian. Maho was… Maho. Telling them served no purpose. I wasn't lying to them and in her distance Maho worked her end of the court too, her simple presence was enough to demonstrate the truth of my words to those who sought comfort and guidance.

Maho was still famous in school as being a fighter and one of the brightest in our year. Test after test she would rank in the low twenties or high teens and her prominence and strength was an asset when these poor girls came to me.

- - - oOo - - -

We had just said goodbye to one of them, a tearful but grateful tenth grader, and were sitting back on a bench one lunch break in silence. I tilted my head back, and looked up at the sakura in full bloom. A couple of petals blew free and drifted down.

"Let's go," she said.

"Talk or walk?"

"Talk."

We went back into the main block and up the stairs stepping out onto the roof into a breezy, cool late spring afternoon. It was good weather, dry, and the sun was beginning to find his strength again. The roof was quite crowded. A few groups of boys lounged about and at the far end a gang of girls, several of whom I recognised as ones who'd given us trouble.

Maho saw them but never even broke step, she led me to the railing not very far from them. The chattering of the boys as we passed died away too.

People were watching us, I could feel it.

She leaned on the rail. Facing west towards Tama the familiar green hills bumped the distance. I leaned next to her, but kept my back to the rail so that I could watch the troublesome girls with one eye.

"Mother found out."

"About us?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say, "Um. Did you argue?"

"Yes."

It had been at the weekend. I'd gone swimming, on the Saturday Maho had gone home at her mother's request. Now I knew why.

"Why didn't you say?"

"I was thinking."

_Oh. About what? Tell me!_

"Oh."

"That Okahara girl told her mother and she told mom."

_That Okahara girl_ was one of the more spiteful ringleaders of the main group who'd taunted us. Taunted me. They never seemed to bother Maho when she was alone, only me when I was. I was still a bully magnet, even after all these months. It must be painted onto my aura: _I'm shy and nervous and won't fight back – kick me!_

"Oh," I couldn't think of anything to say, all I could do was act like the clammed up idiot I'd been a week after I'd entered school. I feared the worst.

"It was a pretty bad argument."

"Maho… I, er… oh."

_Please say goodbye gently.  
_  
"She was very cross with me."

I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Mother gave this woman a piece of her mind. It was quite funny apparently." Maho chuckled and looked over at Okahara-san. "This lady expected mom to get embarrassed and upset but instead she laid into her telling her to mind her own business!"

Staring down at my feet I frowned.

"And then she gave me a piece," Maho went on. _" 'Why didn't you tell me before, Maho?' _she shouted,_ 'your father and I could have been there for you. We could have helped and advised and supported you!' _"

I looked sideways at her, "What?"

" _'All that you put us through over Takashi-san!'_ she went on, _'And you were planning this, you were like this! You should have said!'_ Ha, it was so funny. I told her it wasn't like that at all but that this had been a complete chance thing. I was upset and confused and lonely over Takashi and I was cross with them and it just… happened."

"Is that what it was?" A funny hot thing was boiling away inside me, gnawing at my stomach.

"Sure. You know it was."

"No I don't! I don't know at all! I thought… I thought you…" I looked up at her, my eyes big and round and suddenly I was close to tears. _Needed me. I thought you needed me._ I knew very well exactly how she'd been those weird September days, how it had happened and why but hearing it like this, that I was just some convenience for her to rebound to, I was angry and hurt. I knew all along that I'd been a port for her in her storm yet this… hearing me spoken about so coldly to another person… "Dammit, Mahorin! You said you never acted, that you couldn't! But you, you… You said your feelings were…!" I couldn't finish, if I did the tears would come.

She stood up and faced me.

"Baka," she said sharply, "What did I say to you years ago? I don't act. I can't. I have never deceived anyone in my life, I have always acted true. It's why Yukino pissed me off so much with her fake self that time. I can't abide that in people."

She stared hard into my eyes, I took a step back, I couldn't face that gaze. My bottom pressed up against the railing and she was suddenly right there, right in front of me, my hands gripped the railing either side of me and her hands came down onto them, pinning me there.

"Don't even go there. Don't ever doubt me, Ryusaki Sakana. Don't you ever do that."

I couldn't bear to look at her yet I couldn't look away either.

"Maho, I…"

"I am true in all that I do. I have never deceived you. I have told you repeatedly why I am here and where I am going. But this is true as well, I came here because I saw someone who had a way of life that attracted me, you appealed to me because you were honest too. The day you told me about yourself in my garden. You were so strong then, so impressive, you are a good person Ryusaki Sakana, and true to yourself. You really screwed with my head that day, you left me reeling."

"I did?" _What? What are you saying?_

"After that I was very confused. I rejected you because I couldn't handle your honesty. I went for weeks that summer and into the start of the next semester struggling with myself. The girls who come to you these days, I sometimes see myself in them. Ever wondered why I keep my trap shut when you talk to them? Now you know. Because I'm one of them. Confused, hurting, messed up. I might be gay, I might be bi, I don't know. What I do know is…"

She stopped and her eyes searched mine. I noticed them flicker from side to side, looking first into one of mine, then the other, searching mine, looking for a place to anchor.

"I can't act, Kanahrin, I never could. Even in the play, at the end. That was me."

"Maho…?" A tear started in my eye and ran down.

"Which is why, now… this is…" she tilted her head. Over her shoulder I could see people watching us. _No! Don't! Not here!_

"Mah-urrrrnnn!"

The word was cut off by her mouth, she was against me, hard and hot and urgent, with the frightening strength of Asapin her jaw pushed open and pulled mine apart with it, her tongue entered and did what she wanted, violated me, raped my mouth. I gurgled helpless, tried to lift my arms but couldn't, she was too strong, she always was, she'd always been able to pin me in place without the need for bindings, even her mind and voice could do that. My head went back, partly in aching submission partly from the sheer strength of her.

_Maho! Please! Not here! People are…!_ The thought rang out in my head and I tried to say the words but only half of them came out, gurgling and wet. It's hard to use your tongue to speak when another one is filling your mouth and almost choking you with it's strength and length.

Then she was gone and I stood there gasping and breathless, violated.

"All these months," she said carefully, gently, "I have wanted to do that. Here," She looked around, then back at me, "in school. But I respected my mother and father and chose to keep this from them." She lifted a hand from mine and ran a fingertip along my lip, wiping away our mingled saliva, "I hate acting, I won't do it but I was forced to. But now. Now I'm happy. I'm very happy Kanahrin. Now that mom and dad know and they haven't disowned me. Now it can stop. Now I can be true. I can hold your hand. I can touch you. It doesn't matter any more that _they_ are watching. It used to and I am so sorry that I could never tell you the truth of it. Now it's changed. I want them to watch. They attack you because of me, what we have frightens them. I was never afraid to show them, but I chose not to for my parents' sake. They think that by telling their moms so mine finds out they would hurt me. But in fact it has released me, set me free. Now, Kanahrin, it's different. I want to do this."

"Mahohrin…?"

She demonstrated _this_ again, This time slowly and tenderly and chastely and lovingly and so sweetly she melted my heart. People were watching, boys and girls and even those girls who attacked me, but I didn't care. How could I? She was sending me places they couldn't begin to understand, how beautiful those places were, places only someone who truly respects you can take you. I became more excited by that second kiss, simple though it was, than the first.

We parted. My chest was heaving, the tears continued to run.

"There." She smiled at me, "Now that's over with we can really enjoy ourselves."

She let the pressure off my hands and I at once bounded forward and hugged her, squeezing hard.

"Mahohrin! Arigato! I love you!"

- - - oOo - - -

That was the day that roof became my favourite place, a special place because of her and what she did, her honesty.

She didn't love me, she never said that, but she demonstrated all her reasons to me that day.

And they were sufficient.

You're so strong Maho.

I am not.

Which is why I'm here now.

- - - oOo - - -

_26 & 28 February 2008_

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy Two please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	73. Visitor With A Key

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy Three – Visitor With A Key**

"_If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the time you'll stop." _

- Chinese proverb 

_There was something about that I should have heeded. To my eternal regret I did not. _

- Ryusaki Sakana, September 1995 

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
_  
It was she who set the pace of that last year. She set it's moods, it's feelings, it's direction. She was always in control. From that kiss on the school roof she was never again reticent or shy; we'd hold hands all the time, in school, around town, with our friends. She'd kiss me often in front of strangers. I minded at first, I was afraid as I'd always been about what people would say, but gradually her relaxed approach to it all, her carefree in-your-face, do-something-about-it-if-you-have-the-balls attitude filled me with confidence and some of our most memorable and steamy scenes were in very public places.

School and my swimming career became a backdrop to this new assertive carefree love-filled mood. That last few months were among the happiest of my life.

There was of course, and however, the shadow.

It had always been there but many days I forgot it, her brilliant presence drove it away. But it would creep back sometimes in the night and kept me from sleeping. I would catch her from time to time on her phone talking. She never said who with but I knew. I could tell from the quiet murmurings of her tone who she was speaking with. After our first few conversations where he was discussed I never asked her about him. I suppose that is a symptom that all was not well, we both avoided the subject and avoiding a subject is never a good sign between close friends.

The news came after we returned to school in September of 1997, our senior year. Takashi-san's research doctorate would end in the following February but essentially his work was wrapping up at Christmas.

He invited Maho to New York to celebrate Christmas and New Year with him. She wouldn't be eighteen until May so I knew nothing would happen but there was a mood in her that was new, a change. I knew what it was and I had been expecting this since that very first day when she'd told me, quite plainly that after two years it would end.

She never acted, not once, she was always honest. Some days I hated that honesty. Why couldn't you have lied to me my darling? Just this one lie, and then surprised me at the very end? At least then my two years with you would have been without that constant nagging shadow.

But of course Maho was Maho, without the honesty I couldn't have loved her quite so much.

A date was set. The seventeenth of December. She'd fly out on the early morning flight from Narita.

She would go.

- - - oOo - - -

I'm sorry. Please forgive me, this is going to be difficult to say. If I become incoherent I ask you to be understanding. I just…

…

- - - oOo - - -

I carried on, I tried very hard, all through that autumn that seemed to fly by so fast, the days rushing and tumbling one upon another so quick they wouldn't heed my frantic calls to stop, to at least slow down. Just a little.

For pity's sake, slow down…

September went by, our anniversary. Two years. I did everything I could to make her happy. We ate Chinese again and I did things to her that took us both to new peaks of delight.

But I can't relate them to you, I was in freefall, trying so hard to make this good for her, make this the best time ever.

I realise now.

How afraid I was, how scared.

I was doing these things to suppress my own rising panic.

- - - oOo - - -

I am a dying star, burning up. Burning brightest.

Raging and roaring and engulfing the planets of it's own solar system for food.

I've not been very nice to know in these last weeks. Yukino and Tsubaki tried to help but I tearfully and angrily pushed them away. My twisted hurting mind preferred to be alone at the end, as I had been at the beginning.

Inoue was there though and bless her, she was the one I turned to, she was the one who, having held at arms length for so long I now drew closer to. To her I could talk, it was easier that I knew her less well than my closest friends and that she didn't know me as well either.

I would go out in the evenings and sit with her in anonymous coffee bars and cry and rant and scream at her, although it was not her fault.

She had endless patience.

I owe her my thanks.

- - - oOo - - -

Please. Uh, wait a moment.

Now, yes…

I cannot even talk about or organise coherently in my memory the dialogue we shared, Maho and I. The conversations of that autumn were so intense, so tender and loving and we talked too about new subjects, her future, mine. It was a beautiful end of summer, we'd sit long evenings in the garden while the sun went down. I would look around us at the beautiful oasis she had created for me, our own Garden of Eden.

Often it would end as a warm dusk lengthened the shadows, that I would stand and take her hand and lead her over the little stone bridge past mom's smiling Buddha and drawing her down with me onto our well worn patch of grass behind the tall swaying black bamboo I would try again and again one of the only ways I knew to persuade her not to go.

I would not use words, I would not plead. I never begged, not once and in her presence I never cried or was down. For her I was happy all the time and I did encouraging things for her and to her often.

She could never act.

I became an expert. I became two people, with her happy and loving and passionate, with Inoue a dark despairing hopeless creature. The line linking these two people was drawn so thin and long and painful, a cold taut wire.

- - - oOo - - -

I bring you, my dear friend, and myself to those last few days.

What can I tell you about them?

Perhaps I don't need to tell you anything, I have said all I need to. I'm sure you have a good picture in your head of what our house was like, the mood in it, that exquisite balance of passion and despair, teetering, a knife edge.

We had stopped playing our games, my toy box was unused and forgotten, the pretty clothes we wore and loved to remove… forgotten. But I did ask her one last time on that Tuesday night to wear the black silk night dress and one last time I loved her in it.

And one last time…

I'm sorry, it's hard.

And one last time we fell asleep, she in my arms, her face tucked down against my neck, my lips in her hair the moonlight in it sending rainbow shimmers along each strand just like I'd seen the sunlight do that very first day.

I lay awake a long time feeling her gentle breathing and her soft and wonderful warmth.

My God, why must the world be like this? I can… I cannot.

I am… I am not.

She is, she isn't.

I'm so confused.

It hurts so…

Please stop.

- - - oOo - - -

I get up in the night, I do not know what time it is. I do not care. I wander around the house. Her bags are in the hallway packed and laughing at me. I want to kick them. I stare at them with hatred.

I kneel down.

I embrace them. I hug them to me, they are, after all, her life.

I kiss them.

I… it is starting, reason is leaving me… I can feel it. I am. Not responsible.

I slide open a shouji screen and the freezing December air sneers at my bare skin. The garden is dark. I step outside. I do not feel the cold. Naked and blue with cold I walk past Buddha, patting his head.

What have you got to smile about?

I kneel in our special place.

I think…

I think I can…

Smell her.

- - - oOo - - -

I remember going back into the bedroom, yes, I remember that. I stood in the doorway and watched her sleeping. Curled into a small ball I could not see her face.

I do not want to. I kneel and kiss her hair.

I think then…

I am walking. Yes. The moon is bright, the train tracks four o'clock silent, too early even for the dog walkers. I pace the streets. I must have done, I have a memory of it. I walk for hours, I do not know where.

I had a pencil and paper in my hand. On a park bench by our fountain I wrote words down. I had no idea what I was writing, a description of the night, I think.

Daylight begins to come, the sky just paling.

I went home.

I knew now what I'd done. Her early morning flight, a taxi at four.

I open the screen door. Rattle. Clunk. A thousand days. Another day. Just another, like all the others. The track of the door slide is a strip of metal six inches in front of my toes. I stare at it. Crossing it I step in.

"Tadaima!"

- - - oOo - - -

The house is silent. The entryway seems so big. The bags are gone.

She is…

- - - oOo - - -

On the kitchen side are three sheets of closely and neatly written kanji. I imagine her sitting and writing them, her arm and wrist making their quick economic movements.

"You asked me often whether I did or not. You never used words, that I can recall, but your eyes asked me this question again and again. Almost every day. _Do you love me?_ You asked, _Do you love me?_ I felt it when you held me and when we touched, when I made dinner for you or waited while you swam. You wondered if this was love. Didn't you? And yet never once did you ask me, put me in that painful position of having to answer. At least with words.

"I hope with gestures I answered you, with the things I did.

"It has been hard, you know, these two years. And for much of that time I had no answer myself. In the end I came to an answer – or perhaps it came to me, I don't know. There's lots I don't know. Things I don't know yet and things I did know that I have now discarded as truths I used to hold and have laid aside. But in the end I decided that I did love you… and yet, in a way I also decided that I couldn't.

"Gomen, forgive me, I'm making no sense. You see I realised that the human heart can only love one person at a time. Given time the heart can forget another and love again. I presume after a loved one dies although I hope I never have to understand and experience that. I love Takashi. I loved him before I even knew you existed. I will love him all my life, I know that now.

"And yet, and yet Kanahrin, my sweet gentle lovely girl, I think I loved you too, in a way. There were times when I was so happy, when I forgot completely about him, when your presence in my life was so wonderful and intense that all thought of him was driven completely away.

"The days we worked in your garden, and in Hawaii, and simple times like walking home from school, hand in hand, and times late at night in bed when you would hold me and my world would be complete. I knew in my head that it wasn't complete but my heart was complete and I suppose what the writers and poets say is true, the heart rules the head, in the final reckoning it does.

"In a way it is ironic. Had I never fallen in love with Takashi then you and I would never have become lovers, I would never have learned the things you taught me. You taught me a lot, such a beautiful _sensei_ you were, I will always be grateful. But strange to relate that without him there would not have been an us. And yet also because of him there could not be an us, the us that there was had to end. Sometimes I look at life and don't understand it, why it is both so kind and so cruel in equal parts.

"You deserve better, I know you do. Someone as kind and as giving and as gentle as you. Please go and find another person, I know that out there somewhere there is a life that is incomplete because that person hasn't met you. They are looking for you. Find them. Go to them, make them as complete and as happy as you made me.

"But I have discovered that, even though you were wonderful and filled every need I had, I needed to fill another's needs more. As I said, I think a person can only truly love one other person at a time. Or rather, while I did come to love you, in the end, my love for him is stronger.

"I do not know which it is. Perhaps it does not matter.

"Do not be unhappy because of this. Had fate handed us cards in a different sequence I know it would have been different, do not blame yourself, nor me, nor him, none of us did wrong. But the cards are still being dealt, with every passing day time deals them anew. Use what you have, Kana, my darling, use what you are given each day anew to find another person. She – or perhaps he? Is waiting.

"I must go now, the taxi is sounding his horn. How I hate taxi drivers. Taxi drivers and answering machines, the bane of my life. I want to go and yet I don't want to. It is funny, this life, how it leads us on. Our circumstances, they pull at us. But now, as I go, I want to tell you.

"You were perfect. For everything – arigato.

"Sayonara,

Maho  
x"

- - - oOo - - -

Next to her impeccable clear writing I lay the single crumpled sheet I'd written in the dark on my knee on a park bench:

**Visitor With A Key**

Black soil smears  
Your palms are sweaty  
Kneeling in my garden  
Planting only annuals

I'm barely more in control of me  
To withstand this  
To know time moves on  
Is more than reason was designed to do

Your movements around this place  
Make me feel as though what goes on  
Outside my windows  
Is just not important

Your suitcase beside my wardrobe  
Is my daily reminder  
Of the tragedy that  
You'll one day be going

Keeping going  
Is easy when I don't think  
You're a stranger with a door key  
Explaining that you're just visiting

I am finally seeing  
That I was the one worth leaving  
In my bed you sleep alone tonight  
I am walking, walking around this house

I can't bear to be reminded that you must go  
I want more of you  
Yet every minute you stay here  
I am hurting more  
And more

I was hurting and  
You healed me. You came here and  
breathed life into my airless place  
But now

Please stay  
Please go  
Please, just have this time come to an end  
You're the heart of me tearing out the heart of me  
I unravel and fall, a falling sigh

- - - oOo - - -

I go down the silent hall and into the bedroom. The clock tells me it isn't yet six. The grey day is starting. The futon is there, the crumpled blanket, the single pillow, two half empty glasses of water one each side…

I do not switch on the light, I see these things in the gloom. On the blanket is a darker blob.

I stand by the futon.

The black nightdress is there.

I fall to my knees and touch it, the smooth slippery texture of it is like her skin, and like her skin it is still warm. I pick it up and crush it to my face.

The fast cooling heat of her body is against my lips.

And like her skin it holds her scent.

Then the tears come, great rivers of them. I cannot stop them.

I cannot say more.

- - - oOo - - -

_? May 2007 – Visitor With A Key  
15 November 2007 – Maho's letter  
29 February 2008 – The rest of it_

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy Three please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	74. Take The Love She Gave And Have Life

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy Four – ****Take The Love She Gave And Have Life**

"_Let's promise that if we should ever part someday that we will never forget the wonderful feelings we experienced together."_

_- Miyazawa Yukino, Kare Kano, Episode.24 _

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The years they pass, leave me lonely and sad.  
I can never love again 'cause none make me glad.  
I'll wait and expect you until my work down here is done,  
Then I'll meet my true love at the setting of the sun.

- Seth Lakeman, Setting of the Sun

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You have been so kind to me. I don't deserve your kindness, I've taken up so much of your time. But now that it's time to go I want to give you something. 

Well, really it's not a gift for you, it's for someone else. And I'm imposing on you one more time.

One last time.

But if you could give her this I would be so grateful. I do trust you, you see?

I would give it her myself, but…

…I'm a terrible coward as you know and I just don't have the guts to face her.

To see her again.

Because I would just do something silly and spoil it all.

So, please give this to her.

It's a song for her.

I wrote it very soon after I first saw her. Saw her eyes. Probably within the first couple of weeks. And although I knew her for so long, my feelings never changed. Not a single inch did they waver. I never bent. I loved her always.

The things I wrote in those first weeks came right out of the very core of me. I don't know quite where the words came from or what created them. I do know, though, that they are completely honest. They say exactly what I felt then and what I feel now.

The strangest thing of all is that what I wrote all came true. It scares me, every word. How did that happen? Perhaps by writing it and secretly wanting it, I made a self-fulfilling prophecy? If so maybe that is my one success. By writing down my feelings I empowered myself to go out and demonstrate them and take what I wanted.

If so, then that's good. I finally found my ego and it went and got what it wanted.

_**We did, Saka, we did. Finally, we did it. So you won't want me around any more. I'll go now. Now it's all up to you.**_

That's good. A good place to finish.

This isn't really a song, there's no music to it so I guess really it's a poem.

But I think of it as a song.

My heart sings it. I will always sing it. Until the day I die.

So please, take this piece of paper and after I've gone, give it to her.

When you do, look her in the eye and tell her.

"Mahorin – you know Kanahrin loved you. She loved you from the moment she saw you. That love carried her right through to the end. Take the love she gave and with it have your life. Pass it on to the one you love. And be at peace. And be happy. Because Sakana is."

- - - oOo - - -

**A Song For Maho**

Standing still…  
Where I come from,  
How cold… waiting for the day to come.  
I change my mind  
Even alone, I  
Feel so good that you are here.

Oh, don't,  
Don't you lift me up so.  
No, no just give it up,  
Oh, there are bad things about me.

Into my twisting winding dark you won't want to go.  
I live a life that cannot endure  
So I thank the Lord  
That I had you.  
And I think He's sold  
On the idea of you. Beautiful you.

I'm sitting here slightly bored  
Running without the running that is you.  
And I'm watching you  
And your rainbow of peace that flows down,  
And your calm quiet years that I love.

There are some mornings when the sky looks like a road  
And memories I have, you in our bed, I have and hold.  
There are some wishes that drop from great heights  
With you not loving me,  
And some great days when you look at me  
And they sting so terribly.

You do as you please -  
I'm on my knees,  
Your skin is something I drag across my teeth.  
My lips are worshipping  
And watching you.

My heart is here burning  
And dying for you.  
And you are starring, starring, starring  
In the tumbling down days of my life.

You just look around  
And calmly you kill me so.  
Oh, you just look at me  
And my life is done.

- - - - - -

Ryusaki Sakana  
1979-1997

- - - oOo - - -

_14 – 15 May 2007 _

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy Four, please see my forum (click on my pen name)._


	75. The Place I Loved The Most

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy Five – The Place I Loved The Most **

_Be my bride. And I'll be yours._

_Its how it works in fairy tales isn't it?_

_In all the best love triangles. If you truly love someone, their happiness matters most. Let them go… Let her go._

_- Ryusaki Sakana, September 1995  
_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

_I understand love now. I understand what it is that you have been seeking all your life. Sigh gave me this understanding as her final gift. It was a good gift to give, the best. And she gave it unconditionally, she gave all of herself that I might have this understanding. Perhaps that is where her story was meant to end, that I might know her love and pass it on. To you._

_  
- Neo Model, Steel Snow, September 1995 _

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Here I am.

I am me and I am certain.

Here is this place, this most wonderful place. My favourite place. An ordinary metal railing around an ordinary rooftop of an ordinary Tokyo suburban high school.

Yet here, and within a few yards of here, behind that stairwell enclosure over there, on the shady side is where my life became complete.

Good things come in threes. It's true. The day she ran away from Yukino she ran here and I followed her. I'm not sure what went on in her head when we talked but I think that was a big day, an important day. It was the day we became friends.

Yes, that was a good day.

The day at the very end of September when she was upset about Takashi leaving and told me she wanted to come round for dinner. And I got all silly and half-kissed her neck. I think that might have been the moment she decided she wanted to come and live with me.

And then, last spring, when the sakura were in blossom – ah, the romance of it! – here was where she kissed me for the first time in school in front of other people.

My favourite place. Perfect for this. My wrists are beginning to hurt.

A week has gone by, or two weeks, I really don't know exactly. Christmas came and went and I did not even notice it, I was a zombie moving silently in a silent house. I haven't been out, apart from school although I have skipped some days there. I haven't seen anyone, answered the door or picked up the phone.

Yukino sent a letter. I was puzzled at first since it was post-marked from America yet I recognised her beautiful writing. She and Arima had gone to New York to meet his blood-father apparently. Some sort of reconciliation is going on. She didn't write much about it but she sounded happy and Arima is getting on well with his real father. And strangest of all she and he met Maho there.

Maho told Yukino she'd been phoning me but I had no idea since I've unplugged the phone and switched my mobile off. I cannot bear to hear her voice, it would kill me and I would say things that would upset her. Yukino wrote that Maho arrived safely and was well. Her boyfriends research was ending but he'd been offered work in New York. Maho was talking about applying for a visa and going to med school there. Four years, probably in California.

I'm happy that Maho is happy. It's the way it's meant to work out isn't it?

- - - oOo - - -

I am happy for other reasons too. For what we had, what she gave me. She gave me so much. Friendship and kindness, help from bullying, a sense of being, a sense that I could finally assert myself in this world, that I belonged. That I have worth. The most wonderful feelings in my body and soul as she served me in the most beautiful and intimate ways, the things she did to me and I to her make me smile at the memory. I'm only seventeen yet I have experienced things some people never will.

It is all done, the experience is enough, there is no need to go on. To experience more.

- - - oOo - - -

To Asapin – thank you, I've thanked you already but another time is always good. The girl you meet will be special, I know it. Love her always. Never turn away.

To Yukino – God bless you, I know you'll marry him now, now that you are pregnant. I wonder what your child will be like? Love him, or her. That is all you need to do, make sure she or he grows up loving and respecting mom and dad, that is vital, family is vital. You know that and I think Arima knows that now.

To Inoue – I am sorry, had it been another way I'm sure it would have worked between you and I. Forgive me.

To Maho – I draw in a big breath and release it. I love you. Always.

- - - oOo - - -

I once thought that without you here to tell me what you need I would die.

I would cease to have purpose, I would cease to have a reason, I would cease.

I would die.

For there would be nothing for me, I thought, nothing of worth anyway which amounts to the same thing.

I was right.

There is nothing for me now.

It is time to go.

I am happy.

My wrists are aching. I have been stood here for what seems like hours, leaning forwards, the familiar bumps of the distant Tama hills before me, the cold metal railing of the school roof behind me, my arms stretched back, wrists taut.

I am leaning.

Below me are bushes, a wall, a bench. A basketball hoop where once a fifteen year old elfin angel practiced her dunks. She is gone now. Maho is gone too. I relax my grip and lean forward more. I am gone.

I never did swim in the Olympics for they are still two years in the future. I would have liked to have gone to Sydney, I'm told it's a lovely city, very liberal. A proud gay community.

I never swam, but I learned to dive. I learned well. I dive now, bringing my arms from behind me forward in a strong smooth arc I place my hands out to my sides and dive. I descend, a perfect swallow dive.

I am diving.

Maho was my water. She was the rain that fell on me and made for me a lake. My lake. The lake of my future. Into my future I dive.

At the very last moment I bring my hands together and the light flapping silky black cloth I hold in my right hand flutters against my face.

I smell her on it.

As I hit the water it is the last thing I experience. Her scent, her presence, a finger scooping back a rainbow of hair behind an ear. Cool blue-green eyes. My love.

- - - oOo - - -

_15 November 2007 & 29 February 2008_

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy Five please see my forum (click on my pen name)_


	76. It Also Happened Like This

**Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)  
**by  
Saddletank

**Chapter Seventy Six – It Also Happened Like This **

_But love was not enough to hold my grip.  
Can't you just feel my fingers slip  
Into those oceans in the sky where people swim,  
Oceans in the sky calling me in, _

- Guillemots, Redwings

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

Different circumstances. 

I was about to let go when the presence was there. It just came there behind me. Like it materialized out of nothing. I noticed it. She didn't say anything, she made no sound but I turned my head and looked at her and _then_ she spoke.

I'm certain it happened in that order.

"Sakana? What? Don't. Please don't."

She sounded afraid. I guessed why.

"Inoue? You're…? What are you doing here?"

"Ah… I was shopping nearby. It's weird. I was just on my way home and I came in school. I don't know why, really I don't. The swim coach was just closing up and going out. He mentioned your name. And I… For some reason…"

She took a step forward.

"What? What reason?" I gripped the metal railing tighter.

"I don't know why. Really I don't. I was thinking of you. Just now. In a shop. And I came here. I don't really understand." The look on her face betrayed her mood. She was afraid, deathly afraid.

But who for?

"What are you doing Sakana? Come back from there."

"I. Uh… I… Don't come any closer Inoue. Please."

"What is it? It's not… Not because of her is it?"

"Inoue, I'm sorry, please go. Leave me."

"Don't be stupid Sakana. I'm not going anywhere, now please climb back over the railing. You're frightening me."

"I've decided Inoue, I want to do this. There's nothing for me now. Not now she's gone."

I kept watching her. She stepped forward again.

"Don't be stupid. Of course there's something here. Are you blind?"

"What?"

"Are you blind I said!"

She stepped closer still. She could reach out and touch me now. I frowned at her. I didn't get it. Blind? I must be.

"Me, stupid!" She looked cross all of a sudden, affronted as though how dare I forget her, "I'm here!"

"Inoue?"

"Come back over, please. You're scaring me. You're young, you're bright. And…"

"What?" I had turned half round now and hauled myself back a little. Damn my arms hurt. A muscle threatened to cramp up on me.

Her eyes were big and round. She reached out a hand.

"Don't you get it? I love you."

"Inoue?"

"For years, over two years I've loved you. You know that, baka!"

"Wait. I…"

I didn't know what to say. I was confused. My heart was broken, I had difficulty making it respond. The damage must have affected my brain too. Nothing seemed to make sense.

"Come back."

She reached for me. I lifted one hand. Was I reaching for her? I don't know. Then my other arm cramped up sharply and in that hand I held the silk nightdress. My grip slipped. My eyes went wide in surprise, not understanding what was happening, Inoue suddenly seemed to fly upwards as did the railing and the edge of the school roof. An arm came out and suddenly there was intense pain across my ribs, a great hot grinding bite of pain as my falling body and my chest banged against the concrete lip of the roof. My jaw snapped shut and I nipped my tongue between my teeth, the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth and it stung with sharp pain.

"OH!"

My arm hurt too, it burned and was clamped in a vice, a hot tight gripping thing trapped it.

"Inoue!"

"Sakana! Hold on! Owww!"

She had caught me. She'd bounded forward and grabbed my wrist. My body had slipped and I'd fallen but she had grabbed me just in time. I dangled over the edge and had bashed into the lip of the roof, my ribs hitting the concrete edging. My legs kicked out into space as though swimming. My other hand was twisted and burning from the cramps.

"Give me your arm!" she screamed.

"I can't! It won't move."

"Give it here! Quick!"

She hauled on my arm, the railing had bashed into her under her armpits, my weight dragging her against it.

"Sakana!"

"Inoue! Help! Don't let me fall!"

"I won't. I won't. I promise. Give me your arm!"

"Help!"

I flailed about, my cramping arm felt like it was on fire. A wolf with jaws of flame was feasting on it.

"Let go of it!"

"What!"

"What you're holding. That black thing. I can't hold your hand if you don't!"

"This?" In slo-mo I looked at the black silk nightdress I held. Maho's nightdress. I didn't want to let it go.

"I can't pull you up one handed. Give me your other! Let that damn thing go!"

_I can't. It's hers…  
_  
_Inoue, I can't let it go… help me…  
_  
"Sakana, please. I can't hold much longer…!"

"Inoue!"

"Sakanaaa…."

Her grip was slipping. I kicked frantically with my legs but could not get purchase on the smooth stone.

_Maho, help me! _

- let me go. let go of me and hold her. hold her Kanahrin…-  
  
"Yes!" 

_- let go -  
_  
"Yes!"

"Sakanaaaaa, pleeease…! I can't…"

I released my fingers. The biting January wind whipped the fluttering silk from my grip and it blew away. I did not see where it went. I reached up blindly aiming for the lowest part of the railing. A hand gripped my wrist. I hauled myself up, or was hauled up, I don't remember. I screamed with the effort and got a foot on the edge. Arms came around me stronger, hauling up.

I rose up, toppled forward over something cold and hard and fell sprawling onto unyielding concrete. I banged my knees and elbows, I made wounds that would scab over like a grade school kid. Arms came tight around me warm and furious,

"You stupid, stupid woman!"

"Ah, Inoue, what?"

"You frightened me so much! You could have been killed!"

"Ah…"

"What were you thinking?!"

"I don't know. I was… I came here to think about Maho. I'm not sure…"

"Don't you ever do that again!"

I rolled over onto my back. Everything hurt, my ribs, my wrists, my knees. Above me dull grey winter cloud scudded by. Inoue's face came upside down into my vision.

"I'm sorry…" I began to say.

"Baka!" she shouted and scooped me up and hugged me, "Baka! Baaa-kaa!" Her voice became muffled as she spoke against me.

"Inoue?"

"What?" she let me down a little. She had tears in her eyes. I frowned at that. Everything seemed so disjointed and strange.

"Why are you crying?" I was good at asking stupid questions today.

She didn't answer, she just made a funny barking noise that I think was half crying half laughing. I was still frowning in puzzlement a few seconds later when she kissed me.

It was our first kiss.

It was a good one.

It was the first of many.

"There isn't nothing for you now," she said softly, "there's me."

- - - oOo - - -

_15 November 2007 & 29 February 2008 _

_- - - _

_Ano Hito no Jij__ō (That Person's Circumstances)  
The End  
8 May 2007 – 29 February 2008 _

_For author notes about Chapter Seventy Six please see my forum (click on my pen name) _


End file.
